


Regrets Only

by nztina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, BDD, Blaise and Theo Are Dumbasses, But A Little Smaller Than Hermione's Fiancé, Draco is an idiot, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Ginny Is The Mastermind Behind Everything, Harry Just Shows Up When He's Called, Hermione Is Smart But Also An Idiot, Hermione and Draco are BFF, Idiots in Love, Minor Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Minor Harry Potter/Theodore Nott, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Researcher Hermione Granger, because, but that doesn't matter, everything works out in the end, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nztina/pseuds/nztina
Summary: Draco and Hermione are the best of friends - until Hermione goes off to teach at Hogwarts and Draco realises that he doesn’t just miss her.Upon her return to London, he intends to reveal his feelings, but she has a surprise of her own, one that will definitely put a damper on Draco’s plans.Draco. Hermione. And...Hermione’s fiancé?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 171
Kudos: 305
Collections: Dramione RomCom Fest, The Dramione Collection





	1. (You Drive Me) Crazy

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneRomComFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneRomComFest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Made of Honor (2008) - claimed by nztina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, and welcome to my "Made of Honor" Dramione fic! 
> 
> I'm so thrilled to be writing this, it's a lovely romcom and I adore the pining and angst (bread and butter for Dramione, am I right?)
> 
> A few notes:
> 
> 1\. The beautiful header was made by the very talented Quin Talon, based off the original movie poster.  
> 2\. The chapter titles are also the songs in the playlist for this fic, so you can keep track of each new song in the end notes of each chapter.
> 
> Chapter 1 beta'd by anne_ammons, please check out her wonderful story within this fest!

****

**October 1999**

He looked down at the key and decided his wand was a better option. Glancing around to make sure there was no one about, he muttered a soft _Alohomora_ and pressed down on the handle, hearing the mechanisms in the lock click. He pushed the door open and peered inside.

“Er, Adelaide? It’s Drake. From the party downstairs?”

It was a soft whisper but he assumed she could hear him. They’d only met half an hour ago. Something shifted in the dark room and he smiled.

Using his wand to silently shut and lock the door, he made his way over to where he assumed she was, his hands out to steady him. When his shin hit a bed frame, he pocketed his wand and bent down, feeling for the girl that was waiting for him.

A leg. He ran his hand up her calf and rested his palm on her thigh, waiting.

She sighed and his grin widened.

“Like that, do you?”

Hovering over her, he placed one knee on the soft mattress and braced a hand on her pillow, feeling soft hair brush his fingers. Did she have curly hair? He hadn’t noticed. His other hand went up to cradle her face and he marvelled at how silky her skin felt. Surely it hadn’t been this soft when they were snogging at the party. He shook off the thought. This close to her, he could make out the basic outlines of her face.

Another breathy sigh only spurred him on.

“Pretending to be asleep, hmm? That just won’t do,” he mumbled, lowering his mouth to hers. Her lips were softer, too. And plumper. And then, he felt a knee land solidly above his crotch, missing his family jewels by an inch.

He fell to the floor while someone shrieked above him, the mattress squeaking and bed clothes rustling as Adelaide kicked out, sprawling in the dark. A lamp switched on and he groaned, knees to his chest in pain.

“I don’t know who you think you are, you absolute pervert!” Someone was screaming and he groaned, only realising too late that the voice of the girl in the bed belonged to someone who belonged to the past he had firmly left behind him. “But I’m armed and I can make sure that you— what the _hell_?”

Peering up at her through watering eyes, his mouth fell open.

“Granger?”

“Malfoy?!”

— — —

Hermione pushed the curls off her face, looking down at the prone form of her childhood bully. He was half lying, half sitting on her carpet with his hand pressed against his groin as tears ran down his face.

“What the _fuck—_ ,” he began.

“Why are you here?!” She cut him off, scrambling to get up and pull on the robe at the end of her bed. It would simply not do to let him stare at her in her rattiest pyjamas.

“I—,” he broke off, moaning softly as he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, “isn’t this Adelaide’s room?”

She rolled her eyes, realising his mistake.

“No, you idiot, that’s next door. DIdn’t she tell you the number?”

“Yeah, twenty-four.”

“Well, this is twenty-five, so either you’re really awful at numbers or you’re drunk off your arse.”

“The latter.” He dropped his head to his hands. She folded her arms across her chest, sticking a hip out and glaring at his white-blonde head.

“Malfoy—,”

“I apologise.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, Granger.” He raised his head and looked at her with a pained expression.

“I didn’t hear the first time. And maybe you could be a _little_ more specific as to the reason that you are apologising .”

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry that I illegally broke into your room and I’m sorry that I kissed you.”

The annoyance in Hermione’s heart was starting to give way to amusement and she hid a smirk.

“Well, I suppose it could happen to anyone. And it’s a good thing it was me and not some poor, defenseless girl.”

He chuckled and she sat down beside him.

“Anyone, right. Of all the dorms in all of the bloody colleges in all of bloody Oxfordshire, I had to stumble into yours

“Fate’s cruel trick, perhaps?”

“Fate really has it out for me. I’m supposed to sire the next generation of Malfoys, Granger. How am I supposed to do that if you castrate me with your bony knees?”

She batted the words away with her hand.

“Oh, please. You’re fine, you big drama queen.”

“Am not.”

“Well, you tried to molest me, so let’s call it even.”

In the spirit of goodwill, she held out a palm and he eyed it warily before shaking.

“Why so forgiving?”

“Because it’s three in the morning and I want you to get out of my room so I can go back to sleep, you daft man.”

He thought about it for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”

“And if you’re still thinking of heading next door for sordid activities, you’d better keep it down. Not everyone on this floor has the ability to silence their rooms.”

Draco gave her a very weak smile.

“I think you might have put me out of business for tonight, Granger.”

“Well, I can’t say I feel sorry for you.”

He rose and she mirrored his action, watching him limp tenderly to the door. She followed him and unlocked it, swinging it open for him to step out into the hallway.

“I think we’ll be seeing each other quite a bit, don’t you?” He gave her some sort of flirtatious smile that she assumed worked wonders on women who didn’t know him.

“I hope not.”

“Oh, come now, that’s not fair. We should stick together. What do you say, Granger? You and me; a witch and wizard in a strange and foreign land.”

“Right, firstly, the percentage of magical folk who study here has always rested between 25 and 30 percent of the entire student body, so we’re not exactly the _only_ ones. Secondly, this is _Oxford_.”

“Okay, you—,”

“ _Oh, Drake, darling? Where are you? I can hear you!_ ” A voice called from the next room. Hermione shook her head, disdainful.

“Uh oh. Best not to keep Adelaide waiting, right, Drake?”

“Wait, but—,”

“Goodnight, Malfoy.”

“Fine, but you’re not getting rid of me that fast!”

She smiled sweetly, before slamming the door in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears
> 
> Notes:  
> 1\. I wrote this with the intention that Hermione, Draco and several of their classmates went back to Hogwarts after the war for a half-year of sorts, to obtain their NEWTs and help rebuild the school. I didn't get into the whole "Draco redeems himself after the war" thing, because we've got many of those lovely fics already in the fandom. We just fast-forward to Michaelmas term at Exeter College in Oxford. When Hermione and Draco meet in this chapter, they are not friends, but they are no longer enemies - somewhere in the middle ground.  
> 2\. The reason I chose Oxford is because it's one of my favourite places in England.  
> 3\. I've published the first three chapters of this fic, and am in the process of writing the rest. I will update once a week.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Please feel free to drop me a note on tumblr, I’m always on there. Thank you for reading ❤️


	2. Go Your Own Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 beta'd by anne_ammons

**February, 2004**

“Tell me, how do your gentlemen callers feel, knowing that they’ll never be able to arouse you the way a library does?”

Hermione whipped her head around to see Draco standing by the entrance to the room, a coffee cup in each hand. He grinned and she stuck out her tongue, relishing in his laugh. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Also, gentlemen callers? What is this, 1865?”

“Come now, love, it’s common knowledge in both the Wizarding and Muggle communities that Hermione Jean Granger would rather spend an evening at home with a good book than sitting astride a—,”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll hex you into tomorrow.”

He clamped his mouth shut, looking only slightly abashed as she stalked over to him, swiping a cup from his outstretched hand. As she lifted the drink to her lips, a small scrawl on the cardboard holder caught her eye and she drew back to read. 

“If you ever want dessert, call me?”

Draco’s expression went from confused to gleeful as Hermione swivelled the cup to show him the writing. 

“Brilliant, I needed something to do this Friday.”

“You’re disgusting, you know that, right?” Hermione drank her hot chocolate and glared at him over the lid. 

“I’m a virile, rich, handsome young man with a lot of free time and a _very_ comfortable bed.”

“And an ego the size of Russia.”

“Well,” Draco tilted his head to the side and pretended to think, “yes, I suppose so. But that’s just one of the many adorable things that women learn about me.”

Hermione laughed as she made her way back to her desk, perching on the edge as she surveyed him. He was right. Virile - _yes, he had one-night-stands most nights of the week_. Rich - _very, he had come into his fortune the day his father died in Azkaban, soon after they graduated from Exeter College_. Handsome - _without a doubt, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen_. 

But he was also her best friend.

“When would they have a chance to learn about you? As I seem to recall, rule number four is ‘never let them get close, because—,”

“ _That’s how they get you._ ” He completed the phrase, looking very pleased with himself.

“You’re never going to be truly happy like this, you know.”

“Oh, but I am happy, my sweet Hermione, can’t you see?”

“How do you figure?”

“I’ll tell you at lunch.” He walked around her desk to pick up her coat, before draping it across her shoulders and offering her his free arm. She took it and allowed him to lead her out of her office and to the Apparation point.

They landed in an alley in Muggle London and walked to the dim sum place. Hermione waited until they were seated at their favorite table before accosting him.

“So, are you going to spill?”

Draco looked up from the pot of tea he was holding, and smirked at her. 

“Why don’t you tell me, Brightest Witch of Our Age, since you seem to have all the answers?”

She grinned at the challenge.

“Maybe I will.” 

He pushed a teacup towards her.

“Go on then.”

She put on her haughtiest expression and pursed her lips, affecting her friend’s posh accent.

“ _My name is Draco Malfoy and I’m amazing. I’m Merlin’s gift to women. Have you looked at me without a shirt on? I currently own the largest fortune in all of Wizarding Europe. I have a wonderful mother who hasn’t once pressured me to settle down. Every young lady I meet falls desperately in love with me for one night only. I never have to go to the gym because I’m insatiable in bed_ —,”

“Ta.” He raised his teacup in thanks. She rolled her eyes and continued,

“ _I have the greatest set of mates who love to sit around and watch Quidditch for hours and hours. And most importantly, I have the best friend in the world; darling, sweet, caring Hermione, who has put up with my shit for so many years and still hasn’t killed me, in spite of my many, glaringly obvious flaws_ —,”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Did I get it all?”

He smiled openly, lifting his cup to his lips.

“All but one.”

“Oh?”

“The bit about every young lady I meet falling desperately in love with me.” He looked disturbingly demure.

“What about it?”

“Every young lady, _except_ ,” he flicked his eyes up to meet hers, “one.”

She laughed loudly, before clapping a hand over her mouth and looking around the busy restaurant in embarrassment. 

“Only because I’m too smart to fall for your charms, Draco.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way, my love.”

They smiled at each other before the first dim sum cart came rattling towards them, taking their attention off Draco’s sexual appetite and on to prawn toast. 

— — — 

After lunch, Draco offered to take Hermione back to work the long way, which meant window shopping as they made their way down Diagon Alley. He studied her as she eyed a beautiful dark green dress in the window of Madam Malkin’s. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realised his mistake. She whipped around and levelled him with a smug smile. 

“I knew you were going to ask me for a favour, you manipulative bastard!”

“What gave me away?”

“Hmm,” he watched her tap her finger to her chin, “let’s see. There was the way you didn’t even look at the girl at the table over from us at lunch who was clearly trying to get your attention. Then you surprised me with the book you _knew_ I was lusting over— thank you for that, by the way,” she held it up and waved it in his face. “And to top it off, you never tell me you love me unless you’re trying to get something. Or when you’re drunk.”

He hung his head in mock-defeat. 

“You win. You’re too hard to fool.”

“So, what is it?”

“Well, you remember Carlton, right?”

“Your Mum’s boyf— oh, _Merlin_ , tell me she’s not already—,”

“Yep. Husband number six.” He raised a hand to press against Hermione’s back, guiding her to Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. 

“You’re joking. I thought she just finalised the last divorce.”

“Litigation will not stop my darling mother from hunting for a new victim, my love. We both know this.”

“She’s a quick worker. I wonder if she could set me up.”

Draco laughed at this, picturing his mother, who adored Hermione and wanted her to marry her only son, being asked to set the witch up with another man.

“I think you’re better off asking Neville Longbottom to set you up with one of his plants, Granger.”

She looked at the selection of ice creams in the display, as Draco ordered for both of them. He knew her order by heart. Two scoops of pistachio ice cream in a cup with two spoons, because he liked to sneak bites. 

“And a waffle cone with chocolate gelato for me, thanks.”

Hermione straightened and received her ice cream from Fortescue’s nephew, thanking him before walking out into the sunshine. She had stopped insisting on trying to pay about three years ago. Draco never let her, and wasn’t planning to start now. 

He watched her walk in a circle outside the shop, before his attention was drawn to the pretty witch sitting at the corner table. 

— — — 

“What should I wear?”

“For?”

“The wedding, silly.”

He spun to face her. 

“You’ll do it?”

She rolled her eyes and handed him her ice cream. He traded her his cone and watched her lick a runaway melted drip of chocolate. 

“Of course I’ll do it. But only because I love you.”

“I swear, Hermione, I’ll buy you a bloody unicorn for coming with me.”

“I don’t want a unicorn, but I wouldn’t say no to a night time ride around the park after the reception.”

“Excellent.”

“Now, go on, tell me about the witch who held you up inside. I saw her on my way out and guessed instantly that she would be one of your conquests.”

He laughed. 

She knew him far too well. 

**March 2004**

“Oh, Merlin, hide me,” Draco begged, ducking behind Hermione. She lifted her eyes in amusement and raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re aware that you have nearly a foot on me, right? You’d be better off Disillusioning yourself.”

Draco’s fingers dug into her waist as he ducked down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pansy Parkinson walk by, her eyes searching. As soon as she cleared their side of the hall, he relaxed. 

“Fuck me, she’s so desperate.”

“Maybe that’s because you never actually told her that you’re not interested.”

“Too awkward.”

“Alright,” Hermione readjusted the strap of her dress, watching Narcissa Malfoy dance with her new husband, “we’ve gotten through the wedding ceremony and two hours of the reception. You’ve done your job as son of the bride, I’ve done my job as your date. Let’s go for that ride.”

— — — 

Flying high above London, Hermione relaxed back into Draco’s chest and sighed. She felt him breathe deeply. Both of them enjoyed the sharp sting of chilly night air and tonight was an exceptionally crisp night. A year into their friendship, Draco had persuaded Hermione to let him take her for a spin after a quidditch game, and Hermione came to realise that she quite liked the experience when she wasn’t the one actually flying the broom.

“I’m going to miss you,” she murmured, watching the lights below flicker like stars. 

“Miss me? Where am I going?”

“You’re a forgetful man, Draco Malfoy. I told you already, I’ll be at Hogwarts from tomorrow.”

“Love, I know you adore studying with a passion, but you’re twenty-four and I don’t think Hogwarts is interested in teaching older students.”

He received an elbow to his ribs. 

“Arse. I’m teaching Muggle Studies until the school year ends. The current professor is going on maternity leave and they asked me to fill in, remember?”

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, no, I don’t remember. Or maybe,” Draco’s arm around her waist tightened, “I just have selective memory when you tell me things that I don’t like.”

“You don’t have a choice, Draco.”

“Can I visit?”

“No, you can’t, because you have an apprentice to train, and I don’t want you half-arseing it this time.”

“Oh, balls.”

“Anyway, it’s only until June. You’ll be fine and we can Floo call when I’m not in class.”

“Don't pretend like you won't spend every minute of your free time in the library. You won't have time for me and I’ll miss you terribly.”

“No you won’t, you’ll have a plethora of pretty witches to keep you company until I get back.”

He grunted in response, before dipping the broomstick to take them sailing across Kensington Gardens. Hermione felt a small tug of something in her heart, and decided that it was the altitude and not the company.

“You looked really beautiful tonight. It looks far better on you than it ever did on that mannequin.”

Hermione smiled. When she arrived home from work on the day Draco had asked her to accompany him to his mother’s wedding, a parcel from Madam Malkin’s had been waiting for her. The green dress that she had admired lay inside and the price tag had been removed. It was sweet of Draco. He always insisted that he needed to sate his gift-giving needs, and that she, as the only single woman in London immune to his charms, was the perfect person to indulge. 

“You cleaned up pretty nicely, too.”

“That’s because I have a gift for it.”

“I’m going to miss your brazen, misplaced confidence.”

“I’m going to miss _you_ , Granger.”

— — — 

A week later, Draco was sitting at the dim sum restaurant alone, frowning into his tea cup. It had been a difficult few days, especially with his new apprentice. 

And his back was really sore from a dumb injury during a Quidditch match with the boys.

He hadn’t gotten enough sleep. That was it. Stupid caffeine. It was all Granger’s fault. During their exams in first year, she had shown him how to make instant coffee and he had quickly become addicted. Before Hermione, there was the finest Earl Grey. Now: limitless amounts of cheap espresso powder, stirred into hot water and milk with an obscene amount of sugar.

A girl across the room flashed him a flirtatious smile and he tried to smile back - really, he did, but he was in weird mood and she wouldn’t make him feel better. 

Because his back really was hurting. 

**April 2004**

A month after Hermione had left London to teach at Hogwarts, Draco was still grumpy. Theo and Blaise had offered to take him to a Quidditch game. They were sitting in Theo’s box and waiting for an injured beater from the Canons to be carried off the pitch when Draco kicked a chair. 

“You alright, mate?” Blaise looked at him with mild concern. Theo just raised an eyebrow over his glass of butterbeer. 

“I feel off-kilter.”

“Well, that’s pretty obvious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hermione’s at Hogwarts, right? You’re bound to be a little out-of-sorts.”

“That’s not it, Blaise, don’t be daft.”

Theo snorted. 

“Yeah, Blaise, what the fuck are you thinking? It’s not Hermione, the light of his life. He’s all moody and sulking because his pants haven’t been pressed properly.”

“You can jump right out of this box, Theo.”

“Oi, none of that, men.” Blaise chugged back the last of his drink and set the glass down on the table. He eyed Draco incredulously. 

“What?”

“You’re seriously not getting why you’re feeling so weird?”

“Don’t you start with the Hermione thing again—,” 

“Mate, she’s your—,”

“She’s—,” Theo interrupted, “she’s like your perfect other hal—,”

“She’s your best girl friend,” Blaise continued, carefully spacing out the words girl and friend. Draco rolled his eyes. 

“She’s been gone before.”

“But never for this long. She’s always back within a week. And she has, what, two months left before school finishes up? That’s a pretty long time to be without her, man.”

“Do you talk?” Theo asked. “I mean, she’s probably busy all the time, right? And she’s back at her favourite place, so does that leave much time for chatting?”

Draco shook his head, exhaling noisily. 

“We talked once in the past fortnight but it was late and she was really tired so I didn’t want to keep her on the call for too long.”

Blaise lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug and leaned back in his chair. 

“There you go, then. You’re missing her.”

“But you dicks go off gallivanting all the time and I don’t get like this.”

Theo gave Blaise a look and Draco frowned, watching their unspoken conversation and failing to decipher its meaning. After a minute, they looked back at him, identical expressions imbued with placating calmness painted on their faces. 

“Draco,” Theo said, his voice as soft and serene as the therapist on the Muggle show Hermione insisted on watching every Thursday, “you seem to be under some misguided impression here.”

“Theo, if you don’t get to the point—,”

“Mate, do you really not get what this is?”

“No, _Blaise_ , I don’t, because you both are speaking in _bloody riddles_!”

“Let me put it this way, man,” Theo leaned forward, grasping his hands together, “before we go another five fucking years without you seeing what’s right in front of you. You were a mess after school, a _fucking_ mess.”

“Thanks.”

“Welcome. So you decided to go to bloody Oxford to study Muggle economics, whatever the hell that is, and you met Hermione there—,”

“And you promptly, although inadvertently, tried to get into her pants—,” Blaise supplied. 

“—and then something in your relationship changed and the two of you became inseparable.”

“Like this.” Blaise smacked his palms together. 

Draco glared. 

“So you and Granger are happily prancing across the English countryside, bickering constantly, studying to your hearts’ content and enjoying each others’ company until your university time ends and you both come to live in the city.”

“If this narration of my life goes any slower, I think I might have to start writing out my will.”

“I’m getting there, I promise. Anyway, you both get jobs here. She leads a fulfilling and meaningful life, finding work at a job that makes her happy. You, a man who doesn't need to work, finds a job as a potioneer three buildings down from where she works because you want to spend more time with her.”

Blaise clears his throat and continued the pointless diatribe. 

“So life goes on and you settle into the habit of sleeping with everything that moves, while she stays single and goes on one or two unsatisfactory dates a year. You find any excuse to spend time with her and she has no life other than work and you. Do you see where we’re going with this?”

Draco looked between his friends, blankly. 

“He doesn’t see it, man. Should we tell? Ginny's going to murder us.”

“Oh, bollocks. He’s so fucking stupid.”

“I’m right here, you arseholes.”

“Draco,” Blaise looked at him with unnerving sympathy, “you’re in love with her.”

“With—,”

“With Hermione Granger.”

Draco laughed. He laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

In love with Hermione. 

Yeah, right. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears  
> 2\. "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Please feel free to drop me a note on tumblr, I’m always on there. Thank you for reading ❤️


	3. The Wire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 beta'd by anne_ammons

Draco walked into the kitchen with Luca clinging to his pant leg. Ginny looked up from the stove and sighed.

“Luca, darling, you have to stop doing that to Uncle Draco!”

The little boy, a miniature Blaise, looked up at his mother with big eyes and his lip wobbled. Draco scooped the tyke into his arms and gave him a squeeze.

“That’s okay, Gin.”

“Draco, really, if he bothers you—,”

“Honestly,” he curled his free arm around Ginny’s waist and dropped a brotherly kiss to her head, “he’s a piece of cake compared with the twins,” he said, referring to Luna Lovegood’s sons, “so I’m perfectly happy with my little shadow. Aren’t I, little man?”

Luca bopped his small head against his uncle’s chin and stuck a thumb in his mouth. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’ve tried to make it how you guys like, but don’t blame me if it’s not Nonna Zabini’s exact chicken piccata. Godric knows she won't give me the bloody recipe.”

“You’ve met us, right? We’re happy eating peanuts with Butterbeer.”

“Hey, Theo and Harry just drove up,” Blaise announced, walking in from the garden with a bunch of parsley in one arm, the other laden with lemons plucked from the tree. “Here, amore, just as you requested. Enough parsley?”

“Plenty, love, thank you.”

Draco watched Ginny reach up on her toes to kiss Blaise, before tilting her head to stare into her husband’s eyes. The look they shared made Draco’s cheeks heat from embarrassment and he looked away, ducking his head and pretending to pat down Luca’s collar. His fingers came away covered in jam. Why was this child always sticky?

“Hi, everyone.” Theo stuck his head in through the window before he followed Harry into the kitchen via the side door. Harry wobbled in, his face ashen. He looked nauseous.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Theo’s learning how to drive the Jag.” He collapsed at the table and everyone laughed, except for Theo, who looked affronted.

“I’ll have you tossers know that I only crashed three times on the way over, so everyone can shove their wands up their—,”

“Language.” Blaise warned, nodding at his son, a veritable sponge of information. Ginny removed her apron and wiped the back of her hand across a weary forehead.

“Well, dinner’s ready, so shall we just head out to the garden and eat? I know it’s early, but—,”

“No, Gin, it’s fine. I’ll cast a warming charm before it gets chilly.”

Theo enchanted five wine glasses to float out the window onto the outdoor table and he followed with a bottle of chilled wine. Draco followed with Luca, the large pan of chicken piccata floating behind him. When they were all settled and eating, Ginny nudged him with her elbow from where she sat next to him.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

“Just a busy day. Training Jonathan is exhausting.”

“How was the match last weekend?”

“Good. Missing the action?”

“Hell, yes.” Ginny rested her fork against her plate to take an extended sip of wine. “I miss everything. Not that I’m complaining, but I really wish I could get back on a broom.”

“Just a month more before your maternity leave finishes, right?”

“Yep. Counting down the days.” She suddenly grimaced. “Don’t get me wrong. I love Luca, but I need to be—,”

“Don’t worry, Gin, you don’t need to explain it to me.”

She fiddled with her napkin before clearing her throat.

“Not to be abrupt, but I think I know why you’ve been so quiet tonight.”

Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Go on, then.”

“You’re missing her.” She glanced at the empty seat on Draco’s right, and he frowned.

“Not you, too.”

“What?”

“Last week, those two idiots decided to stage an intervention and tell me that I’m in love with her.” He rolled his eyes for comedic effect, but it seemed to go over Ginny’s head. Her smile dimmed and Draco knew from past experience that something was wrong. She suddenly slammed her cutlery down on the table and glared at her husband.

“You talked to him without me?!”

Blaise froze, with his wine glass halfway to his mouth. Theo started to look terribly interested in his salad and bowed his head in an attempt to look less visible. Harry looked between his husband and his friend, unsure what was going on. Draco was speechless.

“Look, amore,” Blaise began, but Ginny held up a hand in a gesture that every man at the table knew meant they were better off keeping silent.

“I told you all,” she shot a look at Theo, “that we would talk to him together. What part of that conversation was too difficult for you dickheads to understand? Why couldn’t you wait for Harry and I to be a part of this?”

“Dickheads!” Luca shouted, his legs wiggling enthusiastically under his high seat.

Ginny sighed.

“We didn’t—,” Theo began.

“We were trying to—,” Blaise stuttered.

“Can I ask who decided—,” Draco interrupted.

“Not one of you should be trying—,” Harry started.

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Ginny stood, her glare more effective than a Silencio. She crossed her arms in a perfect imitation of her mother and made her way around the table.

“Blaise, you and I are a team. We do things together. I’m the one who painstakingly came up with the detailed, incredibly well thought-out Get-Draco-And-Hermione-Together Plan, so I should have been there to execute the first phase!”

Draco’s mouth fell open.

“Amore, it wasn’t just me, Theo was there—,”

“Don't try that on me. Theo is a very easily led man, Blaise!”

“Hey, that’s not—,”

“She’s right, love.” Harry gave him an apologetic grin.

“You, my sweet, easily-led Theo, need to stop letting Blaise talk you into these things! Why didn’t he go to Harry, hmm? Because Harry would have said no!”

“He sprung it on me! I didn’t have a choice—,”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I know for certain that you two idiots botched this up, so now Harry and I will have to fix it, won’t we?”

Harry gave her a righteous nod. Draco gulped back the remainder of his wine and decided that it was time to speak up.

“Look, my dear, misguided friends,” he reached for the bottle, “I don’t know if you’ve been smoking Gillyweed or if the stress of our childhood has finally caught up to you, but you’re all fucking mental and this is totally insane.”

“Fucking mental!” Luca helpfully added.

“Draco,” Ginny sat down, resting a small hand against his arm, “you and Hermione have been the closest of friends since Oxford, and we all see how good you’ve been for each other.”

“That’s because we’re _friends_ , Gin!”

“But you’re in there. So is she. You’re so close to it, you don’t see the bigger picture. And,” she added, “you don’t see the feelings that are clearly in front of you.”

“We don’t have feelings for each other!”

“You both say ‘ _I love you_ ’ all the time!”

“Because we love each other as _friends_!”

“Mate,” Harry interjected, blinking at him owlishly behind his glasses, “she’s been in love with you for years.”

“Harry! Shut up!” Ginny screeched, slapping a hand to her forehead. 

Draco felt the air leave his lungs like a gust.

“What?”

“Oh, Merlin, he wasn’t supposed to just blurt it out to you like that, Draco,” Ginny said, levelling an admonishing glare at Harry, “but, if we had to pin it down to one thing, that would be the reason we’re bringing this up.”

“How is that—,” he stuttered, feeling very out of place all of a sudden, “I mean, you don’t know that for certain—right?”

“Haven’t you seen the way she looks at you, Draco?” Ginny spoke in her soft, mothering voice. She looked at him so plainly that, if this was not the most ridiculous situation in the world, he might have believed them.

“She’s just—,” he clenched his cloth napkin in his fist, “I mean, Potter, you can back me up on this, she’s just a really loving friend, isn’t she?”

Harry shook his head, saying,

“No, man. Not like this.”

“It’s so obvious when you’re together,” Theo added, looking more serious than Draco had ever seen. 

“But I—,”

“Why don’t you date, Draco?” Blaise asked, scraping the tines of his fork against his plate.

“I date.” He didn’t mean for the words to sound so defensive, but they did and he was. 

“No, you hook up. I mean dating. Might be an unfamiliar concept to you. Finding someone special and going on a second date. And then a third, and so on. Meeting their parents. Planning a future.”

“I’m not—,”

“ _That type of guy_ ,” chorused his four friends, looking at him as if he was the most predictable man in the world. Which, he was beginning to think, he might be.

“ _She_ dates, you know, so—,”

“Draco, the last date she went on was a year ago, and it ended with her calling you to meet her at the restaurant and making you fake an injury so she would have to ditch the guy and take you to St. Mungo’s.”

Draco sighed.

“You’re all being ridiculous, you know this, right?”

Ginny glared at Blaise for the fifteenth time.

“This would have gone so well if you hadn’t fucked it up.”

“FUCKED! IT! UP!” Luca screamed.

— — —

Ginny and Theo sat with Draco as he stared into his espresso cup. Blaise was upstairs putting Luca to bed and Harry was trying to repair his car before he and Theo attempted to drive it back home.

“Why are you lot so meddlesome?”

“It’s inbuilt,” Theo shrugged.

“I was perfectly fine with Hermione just being my best friend but now I can’t stop thinking about this ridiculous situation. She can’t bloody well be in love with me, it’s ridiculous.”

“And why is that?” Ginny stirred sugar into her coffee, an eyebrow arched in challenge.

“I’m not the man for her. Never was. She needs someone good and—well, you know, someone all Gryffindor-y. Some sappy fellow who will put her first and keep her safe.”

“So,” Theo bit into a fruit-studded mediant, “basically, you, then?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Draco, we don’t.” Ginny sighed. “ _You're_ the man you've described. You’re good, and kind, regardless of the past, and you’ve always put her first. Is this the problem, then? You think you’re not worthy of her?”

"It's not a problem, it's just a fact. She's Hermione Granger."

"And you're Draco Malfoy. Who cares? The war is over. It's been _years_. Why didn't you ever ask her out, hmm? She's brave and beautiful, not to mention, intelligent—,"

"That's exactly why, Ginny! Even if I did have feelings, what would it matter? A girl like her..." He shook his head. "She's not going to settle down with me, not when she could have someone better.”

“That’s it, isn’t it, mate? You’re still operating under the belief that Hermione would never want ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy. That somewhere out there, another man is more deserving of her love. What a load of shite.” Draco heard Ginny kick Theo under the table, but he continued. “She only talks about you. She spends all her time with you. She goes out with you every night that she’s free. You’re her emergency contact, for Salazar’s sake!”

"Did you ever have feelings for her? Surely at some point during the last few years, there was something?" Ginny asked, her voice gentler than Theo’s. Draco raked a hand through his hair and thought back to university. Long nights of studying together and falling asleep in one bed, curled up together. Drunken conversations after exams. Lying with his head against her thigh on the lawn outside the library—

All the memories that were buried under a thick layer of bravado and scar tissue.

“A long time ago, maybe.” He felt ridiculously vulnerable as he admitted it. “A _really_ long time ago."

"Please just—," Ginny placed a hand over his, "give this a think through, okay? We didn't mean to blow everything up for you, but you've been totally lost without her and we thought it was time you came to terms with your feelings. Maybe you never stopped caring about her like that."

— — —

Draco sat in bed, atop the sheets, a photo album spread across his lap. Hermione had been the one who introduced him to documenting memories in albums. This was his favourite. He watched himself dance with Hermione at his mother’s second wedding. There were several pictures of him from when she would sneakily capture his likeness without him knowing. A photograph from their post-exam holiday to Mexico, when she got drunk on tequila and danced on a table for twenty minutes. Pictures of them holding Luca on the day Ginny and Blaise asked them to be godparents, their faces bright with excitement. Pictures from graduation, where Narcissa had attended for Draco as well as in place of Hermione’s parents, her arms proudly wrapped around both graduates. A wine-stained photo from Harry and Theo’s wedding, depicting the whole group waving tiredly at the camera near the end of the night. 

A Muggle photo of Draco and Hermione sitting underneath their favourite tree on the grounds by Exeter College with a bunch of their university friends. Draco looked closely at the still image and he felt a kick in his heart when he realised that Hermione wasn’t looking at the camera, she was looking at him with fond affection. 

If it hadn’t been for her, who knew where he would have ended up?

Years of Hermione, making his life better and brighter. Years of laughter and friendship. All of the hope and love she gave him. To think she might have been suffering her feelings for him while he paraded a never-ending line of women in front of her — he really didn’t deserve her at all.

He shut the album and placed it on the nightstand, before curling up and pretending to sleep.

**May 2004**

**__** _“Don’t you think so?” Hermione looked up at him, her ice-cream spoon hovering near her lips. She had very pretty lips. He always knew that, but they seemed particularly soft today. They were soft all those years ago, for the brief moment he had mistakenly kissed her in her dorm room. Draco wondered if her mouth would taste like pistachio ice cream._

_“Hmm.”_

_“Draco?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Are you paying attention to me?”_

_He glanced up from her mouth to her eyes and found them twinkling with amusement. Her eyes were so pretty. And her curls. Why had he ever made fun of her curls, when they were so soft and silky and perfect?_

_“Yes.”_

_She laughed a soft, buttery laugh that made his chest burn like he was drinking warm Firewhisky._

_“You’re such a liar, Draco Malfoy.” Her hand reached out to brush against his chest, a soft thwack, but he closed his fingers around her wrist and pulled her to him._

_“Hermione?”_

_She looked at him, her pistachio ice cream forgotten somewhere. Her body was pressed against his. He inhaled and got a swirl of fresh lemon and gardenia; her favourite perfume._

_“Draco? What is it?”_

_“Hermione,” his voice cracked and he reached closer, lower, nearer to her beautiful mouth, “I think I might want to kiss you.”_

_She rolled her eyes and smiled._

_“Then kiss me.”_

_“Hermione?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“I think—,”_

Draco bolted upright in bed, his sheets pooling around his waist as he gasped for air.

“—I’m in love with you.”

— — —

He threw off the covers and blindly searched for his wand. Lighting it, he found the album and flipped through the pages again. This time, he didn’t focus on Hermione. 

He focused on himself—

—laughing as he spun Hermione around at the local pub, his hands finding her waist every time the looping photo played out. 

—standing by Blaise as his best man and gazing at Hermione adoringly as she walked up the aisle, Ginny following her in her wedding dress.

—kissing Hermione’s cheek on their graduation day from Exeter. His arms wrapping around her as Narcissa instructed them to behave and smile properly.

—standing in the background of a photo, watching Hermione dance with Viktor Krum at a charity gala, his glare focused directly on the famous seeker. 

—wrapping an arm around Hermione as she cradled newly born Luca on the day they first met him in St. Mungo’s.

—looking at Hermione Granger with a remarkably obvious expression on his face.

— — —

Draco jumped through the Floo to Blaise and Ginny’s and when he stumbled into their kitchen, he sat at the table as over half a decade of memories flooded his mind. 

Blaise charged into the room with his wand aloft, followed by a very sleepy Ginny.

“Who’s there? Show yourself— _Draco_?” The lights switched on. “Mate, what’s wrong?”

Ginny walked straight over to the fridge and reached for a bottle of juice. She poured out a glass and placed it in front of Draco, a yawn stretching across her face as she took a seat. He swigged back the contents of the glass in one gulp before setting it down.

“I’m in love with her.”

Blaise stared at him for a minute before he threw his wand to the table, where it clattered noisily. Draco looked at Ginny, remorsefully. She raised an eyebrow.

“What did I tell you?”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“When did you figure this out?”

“Tonight. I don’t know. A year ago? _Five_ years ago? I don’t know, Merlin’s balls, I just don’t know. I mean, look who my father was! This is his fault. The bastard made me so terrified of emotions that I’m acting like an idiot. I have been a complete and utter _idiot_.” He dropped his face to his hands and groaned.

“Blaise, darling, go back to sleep. I’ll handle this, okay?”

He heard a soft grunt in response and felt a warm hand pat his head.

“Knew you’d get there eventually, mate. ‘Night.”

Then there was a silence, before he felt someone prising his hands away from his face. Ginny crouched before him, concern waging a battle with the amusement dancing on her face. He sighed.

“You knew. All of you knew, all this time.”

“We thought you’d get there, love.”

“What about her? Was Harry right? Was he telling the truth?”

“She—oh come on, up you get, let’s go and sit comfortably.” Ginny stood and pulled Draco along with her. He followed like an obedient child and let her deposit him on the sofa in the living room. She sat in front of him on the coffee table. “She’s always had feelings for you, silly boy, she just never pursued them.”

“Why not?”

“Look at you, Draco. You literally met her again because you were trying to hook up someone else. And then you just kept hooking up with women. Nameless, faceless women who didn’t mean a thing to you. She never thought she had a chance.”

“How do you even know this?”

“Believe it or not, I _asked_ her. Quite simple, really.”

He huffed out a disbelieving laugh. 

“All that time we wasted.”

“All that time _you_ wasted. She was always there. I think she just realised one day that you weren’t going to change. Don’t get me wrong, she never stopped caring for you, but I think she pushed those feelings aside.”

“What could have possessed her to like me in the first place?”

Ginny ignored him.

“I want to tell you something, okay? No interrupting until I’m done.”

“Okay.”

“When you met at university, things changed. She was free to be a regular student, not one third of the Golden Trio. When Ron went to Romania to help Charlie out, she wasn’t obligated to him anymore. And you were there, by her side. You, a snotty boy who turned into a wonderful young man. You met her again, and she got a chance to find out what a great guy you are—when you’re not, you know,” she made a face, and he nodded in agreement, happy to leave his past behind him. “You helped her through so much of the trauma from the war. I don’t think anyone ever properly thanked you for that, so I’m thanking you now. She was so happy, in a way I hadn’t seen for years. And you both grew together, into the man and woman you are today. You changed our lives. We,” she gestured to the family photograph on the side table next to them, “never would have become a family if not for the two of you. I wouldn’t be with Blaise, Luca wouldn’t be here, and Theo and Harry wouldn’t be together either. You and her, Draco. Your friendship made this all happen.”

“But when did it become something more?”

“When _wasn’t_ it something more?” Ginny smiled, wryly. “Your arguments were always educated, but so full of fire. Do you remember the time, during your second year at Oxford, when the two of you invited us all out there to eat at your favourite Italian restaurant?” He nodded. “We all thought you would start having sex right there on the table because the passion between you two was so visible.”

“That’s ludicrous.”

“No, it’s not. Why didn’t you ever settle down with anyone, Draco? Is it because you’re happy the way you are? Truly? Or is it because the women in your bed weren’t her?”

“I—,”

“You said you had feelings for her a long time ago. Did you ever imagine being with her?”

“Obviously, once or twice, but that’s just—,”

“And what did you imagine?”

Draco wiped his palms against his sleep trousers.

“I don’t know—,”

“Kissing her? Fucking her?”

He winced.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Then what, Draco? Not fucking her, then what? Holding her hand? Feeding her trifle? Dancing underneath the stars—,”

“Having a family with her!” The words were out of his mouth before he could think them through, and judging by the shocked look on Ginny’s face, it had been a colossal error.

“Oh, _Godric—_ ,”

“Wait! That’s not what I meant—,”

“When did this start?”

“It’s really not that big of a deal. Stop looking at me like that. You know how it is,” Draco mumbled, “I’d see a young family go past us while we would be walking down Diagon Alley, or I’d see a mum and a baby in the park, or even when we’d take Luca out for a day. We would always get so many people telling us what a lovely family we were, and I’d just think, ‘ _oh, imagine if we actually were married, and we had a couple of kids and lived in a nice house like a happy family_ ’, you know?”

Ginny’s face was so incredulous that he had to resist the urge to pinch her nose to alleviate the seriousness of the situation. Suddenly, all of this was too much. Had he imagined Hermione as his wife and the mother of his children? Yes. Did he love spending all of his waking moments with her? Yes. Did this extended period of time away from her make him feel horrible? Yes. Was all of this indicative of his burgeoning feelings towards her? How the hell was he supposed to know?

“Draco, you were having these thoughts about her and you _didn’t_ think you had feelings for her?”

“I thought it was just a byproduct of being so close! You know, like when Blaise used to picture you naked when we played quidditch together?”

“I _married_ Blaise!”

“Yeah, fair point.”

“You know, for a really smart man, you can be quite stupid.”

— — —

**June 2004**

“Is everything ready?” Draco stepped through the Floo, his heart beating erratically. Hermione was due to arrive in London any minute and the group had decided to meet at Grimmauld Place for her welcome back dinner. Harry looked up from the cookbook in front of him.

“Hello, Draco, it’s lovely to see you this evening. How am I, you ask? I’m fine, thank you so much. What can you do to help? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe pour me a bloody drink and thank me for cooking tonight.”

“You’re so funny, Potter. A real riot. I can barely breathe for laughing so much.”

“To answer your question, Romeo, everything is ready so you’ve no need to worry.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, you mean to tell my best friend that I’m in love with her and that I want to date her and marry her and have children with her?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Not really, no. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“That’s okay. It’s normal.”

Theo walked in with a vase of sunflowers floating behind him. It floated over to the dining table and settled beside a stack of plates.

“Ready? I got the flowers you said she liked.”

“Don’t talk to me right now, Nott. I need to go sit down.”

Ginny and Blaise walked in from the Floo, Luca in his father’s arms. Ginny brushed the soot off her dress and smiled at Draco.

“Ready?”

“I swear to Merlin—,”

“He’s worked himself up into a bit of a state,” Harry explained, throwing a handful of cheese into a pot.

“Well, he’d better work himself out of it,” Ginny dropped a kiss to Luca’s head before the little boy was released, shooting upstairs to play havoc with Harry and Theo’s wardrobe. He had a penchant for clothes.

“She’s arriving soon?”

“Should be here any minute, actually. She told me she has a surprise for us.”

“I hope it’s a custard tart from the Hogwarts kitchens,” Theo mused, his eyes glazing over. Harry gave him an indignant look.

“I’ll have you know that I bloody _slaved_ over this sticky toffee pudding, so stop daydreaming over another tart!”

“A surprise?” Draco awoke from his trance, his nausea subsiding for a moment. Maybe she _was_ bringing back a Hogwarts dessert.

“I don’t know,” Ginny shrugged. “She said it was a big surprise but that she wanted all of us here for it.”

“Maybe _she’s_ going to tell him how she feels,” grinned Blaise, sneaking a roasted potato while Harry wasn’t looking. As soon as he put it into his mouth, he gagged and spat it into a potted plant by the sink.

“Whatever it is, it won’t be anything compared to what Draco has to say to her, so let’s just get through this evening without anyone doing anything stupid, okay?”

“Yes, Ginny,” came the chorus of the four men in the room.

“Good.” She nodded, smiling. “Now, step away from the kitchen before you poison something else, Harry.”

She was just reaching for the gravy spoon when the Floo flared up, and Draco’s head snapped up to look.

 _Hermione_.

She stepped across the grate, her face glowing and her curls dancing. It hit him as he saw her again for the first time in months, that the familiar fluttering feeling in his stomach had always been love, and not just giddy excitement to spend time with his best friend. 

What an idiot he had been. 

“Hello, everyone!”

Before she could even look around the room, Draco had engulfed her in a hug, lifting her off her feet as she wrapped her arms around his waist in response. She laughed, her breath tickling his ear. He inhaled her perfume and realised that this was all he needed, all he could ever want in his life.

Hermione Granger, in his arms.

Forever.

“I’ve missed you so much, Draco,” she said, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek. He pulled her palm across his mouth to kiss it and she tucked her head under his chin in another embrace.

“Hello, we’re here, too, in case you missed us also?” Harry said, sounding only a little indignant. Hermione pulled away from Draco, laughing as she looked at her friends.

“Oh, you know I missed you all. I’m so glad to be back with you.” She dropped her purse to the table. “But before I give you all hugs, I need to tell you my surprise.”

“Why the rush?” Ginny asked, coming up to stand next to her husband. Blaise wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Because I need to tell you something important, oh—,” Hermione glanced back at the Floo as it came to life once more. “Never mind, he’s too quick.”

A man stepped out, soot swirling around him. Tall. Average-looking. Stupid grin on his face. Draco frowned.

“Who’s—,”

Hermione linked her arm through the man’s elbow and beamed around at her friends.

“This is Andrew. We’re engaged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:
> 
> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears  
> 2\. "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac  
> 3\. "The Wire" by HAIM


	4. The Lion's Roar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received so many lovely comments for the first three chapters of this fic and I'm so grateful to you all! My laptop is dying so I had to write the entirety of Chapter 4 on my phone - a serious challenge for me, but it's done now. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and being so patient for this new chapter. It's a bit of a filler one but it needed to be done so I could show you a bit of Hermione and Andrew's relationship, as well as a few other things. Also, you'll get to see Draco wallowing in his misery. 
> 
> Enjoy! xx
> 
> (This chapter wasn't beta'd so please feel free to point out any errors 😂)

Hermione helped Ginny with the dessert, using a small knife to slice strawberries. She always liked to do things in the kitchen the Muggle way. It reminded her of her parents. There was faint chatter coming from the lounge and she smiled at the thought of Andrew meeting the most important people in her life.

“Are you sure about this?” Ginny flicked her wand at a dirty plate and it obediently floated into the sink. 

“I—,” Hermione gave her friend a wry smile, “I know it’s sudden, but we just got along so well and he’s so lovely, isn’t he?”

“He is very handsome,” Ginny agreed, “but don’t you want to get to know him first? I mean, you’ve planned a wedding for _October_. It’s less than four months away.”

“I just feel like this is it for me, you know, Ginny? I never date, that’s common knowledge. And you and I both know that I’m a picky person. I don’t get men falling at my feet, aside from the strange ones who are obsessed with the idea of the ‘Golden Trio’ and all that. This is my chance for something special. ”

“But don’t you want to see if—I mean, isn’t there something—someone else?” Ginny’s hesitation made Hermione look up at her and frown. 

“Gin, what are you trying to say?”

“What about Draco?”

Hermione trained her features to remain unbothered, but Draco’s rather large occupation within her heart was still causing a tidal wave of unwanted feelings. Especially when she had introduced him to Andrew. It felt like her past and future crashing together in a horrible wreck. 

“What about him?”

“I’m sorry, are we pretending like you didn’t spend _at least_ five years pining after him?”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat and she looked away, back to the fruit in front of her. 

“We both know that he was never interested in me, Gin. He enjoys his bachelor life far too much and I couldn’t possibly try to draw him away from that. Anyway, I was never going to be on his radar in that way.”

“But—,”

“And I’m really happy, Ginny.” She tried not to sound forced. She truly was happy. “Andrew is so kind and sweet to me. His mother was a Muggle-born so he’s lived in both worlds, and we get along so well.”

“But do you love him?”

“Yes.” It sounded just a _tiny_ bit unconvincing, even to herself. Ginny looked uneasy as she crossed her arms and leaned against the sink. 

“You want this with _him_. Everything you wanted before...the marriage. The house with a garden. The kids?”

A vision of a baby boy with silvery-blonde hair flashed in her mind and she pushed away the old, familiar ache. No, her children would look like her fiancé. Like Andrew. 

“I do.”

“Hermione, I—,”

“Please be happy for me, Ginny?” The desperation in her voice was not lost on either woman. “I just—,” she finished with the strawberries and set down her knife. “I never got to have a proper childhood. So that’s gone.” She dismissed the thought. “I won’t get it back but I’m not sad about it because we did what we had to. And then, with the war, I truly saw how precious life was when _so many_ of our people died. After that, I tried to move on, and be happy with what I had left.”

“And you did. You did so many wonderful things after the war ended.”

“But the thing is, I was always alone. Not _alone_ alone, obviously you all were there. But you and Blaise, and Harry and Theo; you all found each other and settled down into these lives that always seemed so happy. I was always envious, you know? Especially after we couldn’t reverse the memory charms on my parents, it’s just been me. Harry found Theo and obviously things changed, and Ron moved to America with Lavender. You have someone who loves you, and who wants to spend the rest of their life with you. I’m so happy for you, honestly, I am, but—,”

“You never had that.”

“Yes.” Hermione winced, feeling exposed. “ _All of you_ have that. And I just want to be loved, Ginny. I felt...left behind.” She brushed a hand across her forehead, laughing nervously. “Godric, it makes me so uncomfortable saying that out loud. I’ve spent my whole adult life waiting for someone who wasn’t interested, so I’m going to choose a person who _does_ want to be with me. He asked me to marry him last week,” she took a breath, steadying her expression, “and I said yes, and that’s that.”

“Hermione, I wish you’d talked to me about this.”

“I know. But, we both know I’m bad at this sort of thing. Men. Dating. Relationships in general.”

Ginny sighed and rubbed her eyes. 

“If he really makes you happy, and you’re sure this is the right choice, then I support you.”

“Really?” Hermione thought she’d have more resistance from her friend. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“ _Of course_ , really. You’re the closest thing I have to a sister.”

Hermione didn’t see Ginny’s pained expression as they hugged, nor did she see her friends shooting glances at Draco during the evening. She certainly didn’t see Draco drinking too many glasses of Firewhisky, and she never noticed how he sat quietly in the corner for the whole night.

She was so desperate to not focus on Draco that she didn’t see the look on his face when he abruptly said goodnight to her and stepped into the Floo to go home. 

— — — 

“Draco?”

He groaned and snuggled further into his sheets. 

“Malfoy, wake up.” Another voice. A stupid, bespectacled voice. 

He pushed his hand out of the blanket and gestured rudely to the intruders.

“Well, that’s mature.”

“Do you think he needs a double dose?”

“Judging by how much Firewhisky I have left at home, I think he’s lucky not to be getting a triple dose.”

“Is someone going to get him up or do we need some magical assistance?”

Then, Draco felt one of the annoying people, his so-called _friends_ , yank him out of his warm, comfortable bed by his collar.

“Oi!”

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Blaise smiled at him sweetly. He glared.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“We thought we should probably check,” Blaise gestured to Harry and Theo, “to make sure that our best friend was still alive.”

“Well, I am, so bugger _off_.”

“And so polite this morning,” Theo dropped onto the bed. “Come on, drink this Sober-Up and we’ll have breakfast.”

Draco begrudgingly took the offered vial and downed it in one go. As his head cleared, he found something aside from joviality on his friends’ faces. 

Concern.

“I’m _fine_.”

Harry sighed and shook his head, arms folded in his “serious Auror” stance. 

“Mate, it’s understandable. You can let your guard down in front of us, we know that you’re not fine.”

“What’s understandable?”

“You just found out that Hermione’s,” Harry shot a nervous glance at Theo, “you know—,”

“Engaged. She’s engaged, Potter.”

“Yes, well, she’s engaged. But the thing is, it’s not the end of the world.”

Blaise nodded.

“He’s right. It’s not.”

Draco sat back down on his bed and raised a challenging eyebrow.

“Oh, really? How is it not the end of my world?”

Blaise blinked at him and then at Harry. Harry just shook his head. Theo groaned. 

“None of us thought this through, did we? This would be so much easier with Ginny’s help. Moral people suck!” 

Draco only then realised that his fiercest friend was missing from the room. 

“Where is she?”

Blaise shrugged.

“She says she can’t take sides now, because, and I quote: _‘Hermione guilt-tripped me and I can’t be biased anymore without betraying her’_ so she made us come here in her place.”

“So, what you’re saying is: I’m screwed.”

— — —

Hermione woke up and turned over to find Andrew sitting up in bed, reading a piece of parchment.

“Morning.” She smiled up at him.

“Morning, love.” He absentmindedly brushed a hand across her cheek.

“What are you doing?”

“Just marking exam papers," he explained.

“That sounds like fun,” Hermione pulled herself up to lean against the headboard, brushing her hair out of her eyes, “can I help?”

“No, it’s alright.”

“Oh, okay.” She brushed a quick kiss against his cheek before sliding off the bed. “I guess I should start on my own marking, right?”

“Mmm.”

“Do you want me to make breakfast? I make really good omelettes, if you—,”

“Love,” Andrew interrupted, smiling at her as he removed his reading glasses, “look, I’m really sorry but I need to work in quiet for now. Do you mind if I join you later? Go ahead and eat, don’t wait for me. I’m not really an omelette person.”

Hermione pulled on her robe and nodded.

“Of course, I’ll—I’ll just leave you to it, then.” 

Andrew smiled again and Hermione walked into the kitchen, trying very hard—and failing—to push down the thought coming into her mind. 

_Draco loves my omelettes._

— — — 

Draco swallowed half a croissant without bothering to chew it.

“Can you make an omelette?” he asked Blaise, who shook his head. “Any of you? I just feel like an omelette would make everything better right now. With Parmesan and chives.”

“I’m sorry, mate. Hermione’s the breakfast queen in this friendship group,” Harry said, setting a cup of coffee down in front of him. “You’re asking the wrong people.” 

“I know,” Draco replied, pitifully. He took a sip of his drink and spat it out. “What the bloody hell did you put into this?”

Theo took the offending cup, sniffed it and shook his head. He tossed the contents down the sink and set about remaking the drink.

“So, do you think you’re up for it? Given how absolutely awful you are at planning things _and_ the added fact that you’re in love with the bride?” Blaise spoke through a mouthful of croissant. 

“What are you on about, Zabini?”

“Being maid of honour.”

Draco stared at his friend, eyes squinted into thin slits.

“Come again?”

“Maid of honour. Hermione asked you last night, almost as soon as she introduced you to Andrew.”

“His name is banned in this house.”

“Right, sorry. Almost as soon as she introduced you to You-Know-Who.”

“Funny.”

“Thanks.”

“I still have no idea what you’re on about.”

“Oh, Merlin, keep up,” Theo rolled his eyes as he placed fresh cups of coffee on the table, “Hermione said she wanted you to be maid of honour, and you said you would be honoured to do it.”

Draco laughed. No one else joined in. He stopped and the cold, nauseating feeling of dread started to trickle into his body.

“No.”

Harry nodded.

“‘Fraid so, Malfoy.”

“Why didn’t anyone stop me?”

“What,” Blaise scoffed, “in front of her?”

Draco let his face drop to his hands and he groaned.

“How is it even possible for him to be maid of honour?” Theo asked.

“It’s more like “ _man_ of honour”, I guess?” Harry elaborated. "But he'll have all the same duties.

“What about us?” 

“I’m escorting her up the aisle with Ron and giving her away in place of her parents,” Harry explained, “Blaise is officiating since he already has his license from Astoria’s wedding, and you’re the emcee at the reception.”

“When did this get sorted?”

“You were there, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Right.” Theo gave Harry a plaintive smile and squeezed his hand. “That’s why I have you around, right?”

Draco coughed.

“Excuse me, while I hate to interrupt this sweet scene of domesticity,” he interrupted, sounding not a bit remorseful, “we have a _serious_ problem on our hands. What am I going to do? I can’t be her maid or man of honour, I want to be the _groom_!”

Harry stared at him with an expression of astonished bemusement, his mouth hanging open. 

“How is it possible that you went from carefree lothario to lovesick idiot in less than two months?”

“Focus, Potter. Bigger things at play right now. You can laugh at me all you like after we sort out this mess. Now, how do I get out of this?”

“Don’t think you can, mate.”

“Go away. This is useless advice.” Draco shook his head, looking appalled. “You lot are _nothing_ compared to Ginny.”

— — — 

Andrew sat on the sofa, reading a book. Hermione handed him a cup of tea.

“Oh, lovely, thank you.”

“Welcome. What are you reading?”

He looked at the cover and shrugged. 

“Just a book I found on the shelf. Little Women.”

“Oh, it’s my favourite book!”

Andrew raised his eyebrows.

“Really? I’m not really liking it so far.”

Hermione shook her head, eyes bright.

“You’ll love it. It’s such a beautiful story. Please don’t stop reading.”

Andrew smiled.

“Only for you, love.”

They sat in silence for a while, Hermione _Accio_ -ing her own book to her lap. By the time her drink was finished and her mug was cold, Andrew cleared his throat.

“I don’t think your friend Draco liked me very much.”

Hermione's head shot up and she laughed, nervously.

“No, don’t say that! He’s just shy around strangers.”

“He was so awkward the whole night.”

“Well,” Hermione slid a bookmark between the pages to mark her place, “I did spring our engagement on him. I think he was a bit shocked.”

“You surprised all of your friends, but none of the others acted that way.”

Hermione stood and walked to Andrew’s armchair, sinking down onto the arm.

“Don’t worry, it’s just because he’s so protective of me. Why don’t you get to know him? I could ask him to take you to the guy’s weekly Quidditch match?”

“Do you think they’d mind an extra player?”

“Not at all! Actually, Ginny was banned from Quidditch for a really long while because of the issues with Luca’s birth. She was never replaced on the team so you’d be evening things out.”

Andrew looked unsure but he nodded. 

“If it puts him at ease, I’d be happy to do it.”

“Great! I’ll Floo him just now . He’s going to be thrilled!”

— — — 

The Floo flared up and, to Draco’s dismay, Hermione stepped through. She was wearing her favourite sweatpants and Draco’s old hoodie. It was a kick in the gut. 

“Good morning _everyone_ ,” she looked surprised to see the other guys sitting around the table. “Am I interrupting?”

“No!” Harry shouted, half-rising from his seat. Theo yanked him back to his chair and smiled.

“What’s up, Herms?” 

“Ugh, that horrid nickname again? Really, Theo?”

“Yes. You left us for three months, you deserve it.”

Blaise offered her his seat and leaned against the island countertop. 

“We were just here to,” he flicked a glance at Draco, “plan tactics for this week’s match.”

Hermione snagged a piece of croissant from Draco’s plate and nibbled on it, her cheeks red.

“That’s exactly what I was going to talk to you about!”

Harry snickered.

“You want to talk to us about Quidditch? I’m sorry, has the world flipped upside down?”

“No, I still don’t understand or care for the game, but i was hoping you might let Andrew sub for Ginny’s spot on the team?”

Draco froze. 

“I...don’t see why not,” Theo mumbled. “Right, guys?”

Blaise nodded.

“Yes. Absolutely. But, it’s really not my call. Draco’s the captain but...he’s more than welcome, right, Draco?”

Draco looked at Hermione’s eager face and didn’t have the heart to refuse her. 

“Of course. He can borrow one of my old brooms.”

“Oh, thank you,” she pulled him into a hug and he felt like throwing up. “I appreciate this so much, Draco.”

“Don't mention it.”

Standing, she dropped a kiss to the cheek of each man before walking back to the fireplace.

“See you later! And, Draco, I’ll see you for dinner on Friday, okay? I can’t wait to tell Andrew about the match, he’ll be so thrilled!”

— — — 

When he finally persuaded his friends to get out of his house, Draco shut the wards to the Floo and locked his front door. His knees gave out and he sank down to sit on the floor.

Hermione was marrying another man.

She was marrying the man she loved. 

And he was going to be her maid of honour.

For the first time since his father’s funeral, Draco dropped his head to his knees and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears  
> 2\. "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac  
> 3\. "The Wire" by HAIM  
> 4\. "The Lion's Roar" by First Aid Kit


	5. Heartbreak Warfare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a very belated chapter 5 for you. If you read my other current WIP (Captive of My Spear) you'll know that my laptop died on me and I finally got a new one a couple of days ago. So, here it is. Probably with several mistakes. This is a filler chapter but I needed to set the story up for our sad-boi Draco to finally get his butt in action. 
> 
> Enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you think! Thank you for reading, as always! xx

“Draco?”

Draco’s head snapped up and he blinked at Hermione.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said,” she tilted her head, brow furrowing, “do you want to be in charge of the menu for the wedding? You know, because you’ve got such brilliant taste with that sort of thing? Also because I can't be bothered?”

“Oh, right.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Do you?”

“Um, yeah. Sure. Yes,” he nodded, trying to snap out of the haze he was in, “of course.”

She leaned back in her chair and skewered a forkful of her _salade niçoise_ , eyeing him with a suspicious gaze.

“You’re being weird.”

“Am not.”

“You are.”

“You’ve gotten quite paranoid since coming back to London, you know.”

“Is this because of Andrew?,” her tone changed, and she grew serious, “because if it is, we can—,”

“I,” Draco interrupted, “am _not_ being weird about Andrew.”

She put down the fork.

“Look, I know I surprised you.”

 _That was an understatement,_ Draco thought, trying not to roll his eyes. Instead, he said,

“It had to happen eventually, Granger.”

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

“You’ll be nice to him at your match tomorrow, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“ _Draco_.”

“Fine, yes, I will be nice.” She glared at him and he sighed, relenting. “I _promise_.”

She knew him too well.

— — —

In fact, it turned out to be a rather good thing that Hermione only made Draco promise to be nice. Blaise, Theo and Harry took no such vow. Andrew found himself with a black eye from an “accidental” whack from Harry’s broom, a stray bludger from Blaise skimmed past him, hitting his elbow, and he nearly fell off his own broom when Theo dive-bombed next to him.

Draco pulled off his jersey and listened to Luna Lovegood muttering healing spells over Andrew. She always brought her boys along to watch the quidditch matches their adoptive uncles played, and she often ended up having to perform first aid on them when they did stupid things.

“Honestly,” she muttered, “you play far too roughly. Poor Andrew here isn’t used to the way you idiots behave on the pitch.”

Andrew made a protesting noise, downplaying his injuries, and Draco realised he wouldn’t want to make a fuss in front of Hermione’s best friends. Blaise patted her shoulder as he walked past, hiding a grin.

“How’s life with twins, Luna?”

“Tiring. Newt says they’re the biggest challenge he’s faced as a magizoologist.”

Draco snickered, following his friends to the shower room. Harry was blocking the doorway and Theo and Blaise were peering around him.

“What are you perverts doing?” Draco asked, trying to see what the commotion was. Theo stepped to the side and Draco looked over Harry’s shoulder.

“Fuck.”

“He’s—,” Theo began, “I mean, that’s a pretty large—,”

“It’s definitely not small.” Harry choked out, looking back at Draco with a very worried expression. Draco couldn’t stop staring. Andrew stood in the communal shower, unaware that four men were staring at him and his downstairs quarters. The sound of water hitting the tiled floor was drowning out their voices.

“Is this weird?” Blaise piped in. “Should we just be standing here?”

“It’s fine,” Theo mumbled.

“Salazar’s balls, he’s bigger than _you_ , Draco!”

“You shut your bloody mouth, Zabini, what kind of best friend—,”

“Not _that_ much bigger,” Harry interrupted, trying to soothe, “don’t worry.”

“Well, good for Hermione, I guess?” Theo offered, earning a loud smack on his arm from his husband.

“What’s going on?” Luna’s curious voice came from behind them and they all turned in unison, identical expressions of shame and horror on their faces. “What are you looking at?”

“No!”

“Get away, Luna, it’s not appropriate—,”

“Luna, get out of the changing room!”

“We’re not doing anything illegal!”

— — —

“What do I do?” Draco asked, mournfully pouting at his overly full glass of Firewhisky. The four friends were sitting in Theo and Harry’s living room after the match, surrounded by bowls of pistachio shells and empty bottles of beer. Blaise sat across from him, nursing a glass of vin santo.

“I hate to break it to you, man, but there really isn’t anything you can do.”

Draco lifted his gaze.

“You’re a _wonderful_ friend.”

“And _you’re_ being a crappy friend to Hermione. Mate, Ginny’s right. I know it’s painful and all, but think about it this way: she was your best friend for ages before you realised you were in love with her. She deserves the very best, and Andrew makes her happy. For now, all you can do is suck it up and let her live her life.”

“That is sit—sit— _shit_ advice,” Theo slurred, already three sheets to the wind. “You should,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “you should, I’ll tell you what to do, listen. Listen. Listen, here.You should win her back.”

“Theo, shut up.”

“Shan’t.” Theo shook his head at Harry and refocused on Draco.

“What’s he going to do,” Harry asked, “break up the wedding?”

Theo’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! Break up the wedding!”

“No, stop that, I was only joking. Don’t listen to him, Draco—”

“Listen to me! I know _everything_!”

Draco gulped down the rest of his drink. It was going to be a long night.

**July 2004**

Ginny paced up and down in the kitchen while Draco sat at the table, staring down at the plan in front of him.

“And you’re _sure_ she wants this?” he asked. Ginny stopped and shrugged. Luca halted from where he had been tailing behind his mother and stared up at his uncle, pensively.

“She said she wanted a nice engagement party and didn’t elaborate further so this is all we have to work with. Anyway, this is Hermione we’re talking about. All she knows about planning weddings is what she’s watched in those Muggle movies.”

Draco nodded.

“Okay.” He read the list aloud. “Flowers, cake, gift bags for the guests. Where’s Blaise?”

“Getting the gift bags from Diagon Alley, but he won’t be long. Unless he’s gotten distracted. As soon as Harry and Theo arrive, we can start putting all the bits in them."

"What have we got? Candle, miniature bottle of mead supplied by Madame Rosmerta, that weird Muggle perfume thing—,”

“It’s for your closet, so it always smells nice and floral, instead of being musty.” Ginny wrinkled her nose. “At least, that’s what Hermione says it’s for..”

“Right, whatever.” Draco groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “I really wish you could have done this by yourself, Gin. Aside from the fact that this is literally my nightmare, I also don’t bloody know why she wanted _me_ to organise this stupid party.”

“You’re the maid—sorry, _man_ of honour. It’s in your job description. Also, I’m pretty sure she wants you to be involved in this so you can bond with Andrew.”

The look of disgust that Draco gave her was so unadulterated, Ginny nearly balked, but Luca pulled a candle off the table and both the adults were too distracted by the mess to continue down _that_ line of conversation.

Shortly after Blaise arrived home with the gift bags, Harry and Theo were walking through the Floo.

“What’s happening? How can we help?” Harry asked. Ginny handed him a pile of thank you cards.

“Pop one into each bag. Theo, you can put the bottles of mead in.”

“Understood, captain.” Theo saluted, before sitting at the table, across from Draco.

“And you,” Ginny lifted Luca into the air, nuzzling at his tiny belly, “can go upstairs and pick out your clothes for the day, young man.”

The little boy ran off as soon as he was returned to the floor and Draco watched him go with a regretful smile. He loved his godson but every so often, he felt a pinch of sadness wondering if he would ever have a kid of his own. Suddenly, there was a loud tearing sound and he looked to see Theo ripping open one of the perfume sachet things. Before he could stop him, Theo dug a hand into the bag, throwing the contents into his mouth as if he was eating from a packet of crisps. Ginny saw it happen at the same time as Draco and she lunged for the sachet.

“No!”

“Yuck!”

“Oh, Godric—,”

“No, Theo, I allocated the perfect amount of sachets for each gift bag!” Ginny wailed, tugging it from Theo’s hand as the poor fellow spat out the perfumed flowers. “That’s not for you!”

“ _Gross_ , why does it taste so bad? Couldn’t we splurge for better beer snacks? Are the purse strings tightening, Malfoy?”

Draco rolled his eyes. This day was turning into a complete disaster.

“That’s potpourri,” he said, explaining with a sniff, as if he hadn’t asked Ginny what it was an hour before. “It’s for perfume.”

“Why on earth did you try to eat it?” Harry asked, trying very hard not to laugh. “It was just there! I don’t know.”

“You’re honestly worse than Luca,” Ginny groaned, trying to fix the torn pouch with a repairing spell. “Always trying to eat things you shouldn’t.”

“I can’t help it if Harry’s a rotten cook.”

“That’s _it_ , cook your own bloody dinner tonight, you ungrateful bastard,” Harry stated, half-joking, half-annoyed. He launched a gift bag at Theo's head. Blaise sniggered, dutifully tying ribbons in his corner of the room.

“You know, apart from the whole Draco-Hermione-Andrew love triangle, all this wedding planning is actually pretty fun.”

“Fuck off, Blaise.”

— — —

The engagement party was going splendidly. Aside from Draco sulking by the bar and his mother glaring daggers at the back of Andrew’s head every time she got a chance.

“You’re staring at her.”

Draco turned to see Ron Weasley giving him a wry look. Draco scowled.

“I’m not staring at her.”

“Oh, yeah, and I’m the Minister for Magic.”

Draco sighed and turned to face his old adversary-turned-friend.

“How’s Lavender? Didn’t see her arrive with you.”

“She’s good, thanks. She wanted to come but the full moon always causes a bit of trouble and she’s already at that phase in the pregnancy where she’s constantly crying, so we both thought it best if I came alone.”

“Sounds stressful.”

Ron shook his head, looking blissfully happy. Draco fought the urge to knee him in the balls.

“It is stressful, but we can’t wait for the baby to come, you know? Haven’t magic-proofed our house yet, but I guess we have a few months. And it’s been hard without my family near, but they do visit from time to time. And Lav’s parents are thinking of moving over there, which will be a really massive help for us when the baby arrives. We’re still deciding between Hogwarts and Ilvermorny but, yeah. I don’t know. Sorry,” he laughed, sheepishly. “I’m rambling. It’s just—I never thought I’d be a dad.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s really great.”

“Yeah, no, I get it. You can stop talking now, Weasley.”

Enough talk of wives and children. Draco felt nauseous. Ron fidgeting for a minute longer before saying,

“Harry told me.”

“Well, that’s wonderful for the both of you, but if you’ll excuse me—,”

“Why on earth did it take you so long to figure it out?”

Draco sighed, placing his drink on the counter. He quickly glanced at Hermione dancing in Andrew’s arms before turning back to Ron.

“Look, I don’t know what Potter told you but it’s over, okay? I know this. He and your sister, as well as all of my other traitorous friends, have made it clear to me that it’s a lost cause; that I need to get over it. So,” he shrugged, “that’s what I’m doing.”

“By getting drunk and gazing longingly at her every five seconds?” Ron smiled, settling onto the barstool next to Draco. “If that’s your plan to get over her, it’s not going to work.”

“Yeah, well, it’s all I have.”

“He’s not right for her.”

“Great. Now, if you could just go and explain that to Hermione, it would be great, thanks.”

“You need to do something if you don’t want to lose her.”

“Already have.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Malfoy. I know Hermione better than I know myself, and I’m telling you that Andrew is not right for her.”

This should have piqued Draco’s interest but he was too far gone down the road of defeat to care. It was bad enough having to live through every day knowing that Hermione was marrying someone else without having Ron Weasley taunt him like this.

“That’s where you’re wrong. According to that Veela sister-in-law of yours,” he waved a hand in Fleur’s direction, “he’s the _perfect_ man.”

Ron nodded.

“Okay, fair enough.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously. I can see that. Handsome, smart, from a good family,” he tilted his own glass at Andrew’s parents, “and I heard he has a _really_ big di—,”

“Weasley!”

“What? Theo can’t keep his mouth shut. It’s not my fault that he tells me things I don’t actually ask about or need to know.”

Draco groaned, half mortified, half annoyed.

“Please stop talking.”

“Look, I’m sorry. So what? Yes, he’s great. He might be the greatest guy on this earth but that doesn’t mean anything when it comes to her. He’s not it. Not the man for her.”

“Who is, then?”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“Well, I thought it might be _you_ , you daft dickhead, but you’ve turned into a real quitter since I last spoke to you, so I’m not sure anymore.”

“Yeah.” Draco didn’t bother fighting it. Ron nudged his shoulder.

“Don’t listen to the rest of them, alright? I know we weren’t friends back then—,”

“Understatement of the year, Weasley.”

“—but you see, I _know_ you’ve changed since school. I know you’re an honourable man and you’ve helped her so much. Even when I left England, everyone kept telling me how good you were for her. Honestly, it was like she came alive again when she met you after the war.”

“Your point?”

“She’s my family, mate. It’s my job to protect her. I don’t want her to settle, especially when there’s a far better choice for her.”

“And you think she’s settling?”

“I _know_ she is.”

“Why doesn’t anyone else think so, then?”

“Because, regardless of the fact that she’s settling, she _is_ truly happy. She’s with a nice guy for the first time and she’s getting married. I don’t think most people can see past that. But happy now doesn’t mean happy forever, and it doesn’t mean she’s in love with him.”

“So, the only person who thinks she could do better is you?”

“You and me.”

“And you think I have a chance?”

“I think you’re wasting your chance sitting here with me.”

Draco regarded the man next to him with curiosity, wondering when his life changed so much that he was willingly accepting relationship advice from Ronald Weasley.

“Thanks, man.”

Ron gave him one of his half-smiles, sliding off his seat.

“No problem. Just don’t fuck it up, okay? I may be rooting for you but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t hex you into an early grave if you hurt her.”

Draco looked at Hermione once again, trying to decide which Weasley was right.

— — —

Ginny sat next to Hermione at the main family table. Dessert was just being served and she was looking forward to it. Luca was busy playing with his cousins at the kids table, so she was free to focus her attention on the people around her. Blaise rested his hand on her thigh while he drank his wine and politely made small talk with Andrew’s parents. Theo was deep in conversation with Narcissa Malfoy. Harry was stuffing his face. Ron was also stuffing his face. Draco was still at the bar.

Hermione’s chocolate cake appeared in front of her at the same time that a slice of custard tart landed in front of Andrew. Hermione looked over at her fiancé as Ginny watched.

“Ooh, that looks so good!”

“It does,” Andrew smiled, digging in without a glance at his bride-to-be.

“Can I try a bit?” Hermione hovered her fork above Andrew’s plate, but to Ginny’s surprise, he placed a hand on her wrist.

“What are you doing?”

Hermione frowned, looking confused. Ginny didn’t know what was happening and she willed her husband to pay attention to the events unfolding. He was too busy eating his own dessert.

“Just—sorry,” her friend’s voice faltered, uncertain, "I thought I could try some. You can have some of mine, but if you—sorry, never mind.” Her voice sounded unsure now. Andrew flashed her a charming grin.

“Don’t worry. Of course you can try a little bit, darling.” He gently pushed Hermione’s hand away, cutting a tiny morsel from the tart and depositing it onto her plate. “There you go.”

“Oh,” Hermione looked between Andrew and her dessert plate, her cheeks growing pinker by the second. She was embarrassed. Ginny frowned. She watched her friend turn away from her fiancé.

“Alright?” Andrew asked.

“Um, yeah. Yes. Thank you.”

Ginny felt something rising in her chest and she realised belatedly that it was pure, unadulterated anger. Her own fork clattered to her untouched plate and she rose from her seat. Blaise looked at her, eyebrow arched. She picked up her wine glass, waving it with a shaky hand.

“Just need to refresh my drink,” she explained as she made her way to the bar, appalled by Andrew and his miserly lack of generosity.

_Draco would never._

She reached Draco, and before he could say anything, she held up an open palm.

“Shut up and listen to me. Forget what I said.”

“I— _what_?”

“You have my blessing. Do what you need to.”

“Speak English, Ginevra.”

Ginny took a deep breath before levelling her friend with her most serious expression.

“Don’t let her marry him."

— — —

Draco glowered at Andrew across the room, Ginny next to him. Harry sidled up to them, looking suspicious.

“Why do you look like you’re going to murder him?”

“Stop fretting. I said I wouldn’t.”

“Oh, really?”

“We’ve come up with a better plan.”

“What’s that, then? Trapping him in a chasm at the bottom of the ocean until Hermione forgets about him?”

“Nope.” Draco took a large gulp of Firewhisky. Ginny gave him an evil smile and he turned to Harry. “I’m going to be the _perfect_ maid of honour.”

Harry paled.

“Oh, dear Godric, _no_. That was a joke. We weren’t going to actually go through with it!”

Blaise walked up, Theo trailing behind him.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Why is he staring like that?”

Ginny grinned at him, gleeful.

“Draco’s going to destroy the wedding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears  
> 2\. "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac  
> 3\. "The Wire" by HAIM  
> 4\. "The Lion's Roar" by First Aid Kit  
> 5\. "Heartbreak Warfare" by John Mayer


	6. I'll Be There For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, friends! Here's chapter 6 for you. 
> 
> I am really enjoying your comments about Andrew. In fact, I wrote him because I've seen relationships like this in real life - where people like to gloss over the obvious flaws in their partners even though EVERYONE can see how awful they are. I kind of wrote him with the vibe of Greg Kinnear in Little Miss Sunshine. (Boy, do I hate that guy!)
> 
> Enjoy! xx

“What do you think of this?” Hermione held up a sensible black bra. Ginny made a face. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you trying to seduce your husband or join a convent?”

“Ginny!”

“What?”

Hermione pursed her lips and put the bra back on the table. She sighed, walking over to an armchair and sinking into it. 

“I’m not good at this wedding thing, Gin,” she mumbled, worn out from a full morning of planning and organisation. “It’s not—I don’t know. Your wedding was so much fun to plan.”

“That’s because Mum took care of everything boring and we just had to pick cake flavours.”

Hermione chuckled, tiredly.

“You might be right. Who cares what colour the napkins are, anyway?”

“Your future in-laws, Hermione.” Ginny felt her annoyance rising at the thought of it. “Andrew’s from money and I don’t think they take kindly to formality being thrown out the window. Especially for their only son’s wedding.”

“I guess.”

Ginny rummaged through another pile of lingerie, smirking when she found what she was looking for.

“What about this?”

Hermione looked over and raised an eyebrow at the lacy set, complete with a garter belt.

“Are you serious?”

“It’s your wedding night. You have to make it exciting, or there's no point.”

“Yeah, but are you picking that for Andrew’s benefit or for—,” she trailed off, shaking her head.

“Yes?” Ginny asked, trying to mask the inadvertent insinuation creeping into her voice.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Just take my advice and get it. You know, I’m married to a very sexy Italian man who has taught me many things about the art of seduction and I think that most certainly qualifies me in selecting beautiful lingerie.”

Hermione shut her eyes, looking faintly ill. 

“You’re such a weirdo, Gin.”

“I know what works, Hermione. And this will _definitely_ work on your wedding night, I swear.”

Hermione considered the lingerie for a few moments before rolling her eyes and nodding. 

“Yes, yes, whatever.”

Ginny turned towards the sales assistant and nodded, handing her the set. Slytherin green, and incidentally, the colour that suited Hermione best. 

_Nothing to do with Draco at all._

“She’ll take it.”

As they walked out of the store, Ginny sent Draco a text on the cellphone Harry had given her last Christmas. They really were the most handy Muggle inventions. If only her father would stop trying to nick hers and get his own.

— — — 

“ _Lingerie shopping with H,_ ” Theo read, blinking down at Draco’s cellphone. “ _How is everything going on Operation B.A.D_?” 

Draco squeamishly pushed aside the thought of Hermione selecting lingerie for her wedding night and focused on the task at hand. He looked up at the large board decorated with ideas for sabotaging the wedding and shook his head. 

“Nothing good enough.”

“What should I tell her, then?”

Narcissa Malfoy looked up from her cup of tea and wrinkled her delicate nose.

“Tell her I’m coming up with a plan.”

Draco rolled his eyes. His mother had been very eager to help with the plan as soon as she was clued into the situation and had invited herself around for the strategy session. 

“Okay, and that’s…done.” Theo sent off a reply to Ginny and walked back to the board. Draco turned to his mother, eyebrows already raised in preparation for whatever scheme she was concocting. 

“What plan?”

“I haven’t had tea with my darling Hermione in quite some time,” she said, a glint in her eye. "I think I’ll have her over this week.”

Theo nodded. He scrawled _tea with Narcissa_ on a blank card and pinned it to the board. 

— — — 

Harry and Blaise dived into the nearest store, panicked. It was the third time in an hour that Andrew had nearly caught them following him in Muggle London and they were ready to throw in the towel. They were disguised as the teenage boys who lived next door to the Zabinis.

“Do you think he saw us that time?” 

“Well, he wouldn’t even be suspicious if we had your bloody invisibility cloak with us, Potter. Polyjuice is fucking disgusting.”

“Don’t be snarky, you know I had to lend it to Luna this week.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know. Something about spying on the twins, she said.”

“Why on earth is she spying on her own children—you know what? Forget it, not important. What have we got so far?”

Harry pulled a notepad out of his back pocket and peered at it through smudged glasses. 

“Nine,” he recited, “went to bank. Ten-fifteen, stopped for breakfast bagel. Ten-thirty, went to bookstore. Eleven, got lost and ended up in Boots. Eleven-ten, went back to bagel place to pick up extra bagels.”

Blaise frowned.

“He’s a boring chap, isn’t he?”

“Maybe it’s just an errand day.”

Blaise looked at him accusingly.

“Whose side are you on, exactly?”

Harry had the good sense to be sheepish.

“You’re right. What a boring arse.”

“Better,” Blaise nodded. 

“Right, come on.” Harry handed Blaise another vial of the polyjuice he kept in stock. “One more hour of this and then let’s get some bagels from that place he went to. They looked good.”

— — — 

Ginny rounded the corner and her eyes widened. Andrew was walking up the path, a paper bag swinging in his hand. He caught sight of her and waved. 

“Hi, Ginny. Isn’t Hermione with you?”

“Yeah,” Ginny nodded, pointing behind her. “She’s just getting a book she ordered from that store. Water—um, water something?”

“Waterstones?”

“Yes. That.”

“Right.” Andrew stood there, rocking back and forth. He was a nice enough fellow, but he truly was annoying. Bland enough to be unfit for Hermione and dull enough to be unfit for conversation. Ginny had never felt the urge to sock a man in the face but she uncurled her hands and smiled. 

“So, are you, uh, having a nice day?”

He nodded.

“Oh, yes. I love spending the day in Muggle London, you know? Getting all my bits and bobs done.”

“Right.”

“And I got some bagels for Hermione.”

“Hermione doesn’t like bagels,” Ginny blurted, unable to stop herself from correcting him.

“Oh.” His brow furrowed. “Sorry, yes. Of course. I should have remembered that.”

“It’s the texture.”

And then there was a small silence again. 

“Did you do anything else?” Ginny offered, unable to keep standing there with nothing to say. He seemed relieved by the opportunity to speak again. 

“Went to the bank, and, um, I found some aftershave in Boots. Actually, I think there’s a couple kids trying to mess with me.”

Ginny blanched. 

“What do you mean?”

Andrew shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Just a couple of guys that seem to be following me. They look like teenagers.”

“Right.” Ginny nodded, trying to take control of the conversation. Stupid Blaise and Harry. Couldn’t be trusted for anything. “You know, it’s quite common here in London. It’s a prank.”

“A prank?”

“Yeah. Muggle boys here. They’re really into following people.”

Ginny had no idea what she was saying but hoped Andrew was gullible enough to believe that Muggle London was vastly different to his knowledge of Muggle Scotland. 

“Right.”

“It was on the news.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My dad, he’s really into Muggle stuff. Has a television set and everything. He’s, you know, always telling me about this sort of stuff. What’s happening in the world. On the news.” It wasn’t technically a lie. 

“About people playing pranks?”

“Yep.”

“Right.”

“Just ignore them. They’re probably harmless. You know. Kids these days.” She was just rambling now.

“Oh, of course. Anyway, I’m nearly ready to go back home to Hermione’s flat now, so—oh, there you are!” He looked over Ginny’s shoulder, smiling. She turned to see Hermione hurrying towards them with a large bag of books in one hand. Ginny could see that the weight of the bag was causing her to walk slightly off-kilter. There was no possibility of casting a Feather-Light charm on them in such a busy part of London and she was struggling. 

“Sorry, sorry, I got carried away, you know how it is.”

“Hi, love.”

She reached up to peck Andrew on the cheek.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just a day in London.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” 

“Andrew’s just off now, aren’t you?” Ginny prompted. He nodded.

“I guess I am. Have you got more shopping to do?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes,” Hermione smiled. “We’re going to shop for a bit longer and then stop for lunch, right, Gin?”

“Yep. Horrids.”

“ _Harrods_.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Andrew gave them another smile, running a hand through his short brown hair.

“Right. I’ll be off then, yeah? Need to mark some more papers. See you at home soon?”

“Of course.” Hermione kissed him again, this time on the mouth.

“See you later, Ginny.”

She drew her attention back to the wanker in front of her and plastered on a convincing smile.

“Bye, Andrew!” She even waved. Hermione looked genuinely happy and it made Ginny nauseous.

“That was fun, wasn’t it? Meeting him here?”

“Oh, yeah. Loads of fun. Here, give me that.” Ginny turned and tugged the book bag from Hermione’s hand. At her friend’s reluctance, she shook her head. “Don’t be silly. I’ve got bigger muscles than you, anyway.”

— — —

Theo stared down at Draco’s phone, looking appalled. Another text from Ginny, Draco assumed.

“What a prick.”

“What is it?”

“That bastard was on his way back to the flat and he didn’t even offer to take the books from Hermione!”

Draco frowned, pausing on his way to add another idea to the board.

“A little more context might help, Nott.”

— — — 

Harry munched on his bagel, looking out of the cafe window at the passersby. 

“Nice day, isn’t it? We never hang out like this anymore.”

“Cut the crap, Potter. We have less than two months before the wedding. What did we learn from today?”

Harry blinked at him. 

“That bagels from this cafe are tasty?”

“Other that that.”

“That we’re shitty spies? Ginny left me a very rude text just now.”

“Aside from that, too.”

“Oh, right. Andrew’s the dullest man alive?”

Blaise sighed into his bowl of tomato soup.

“Not even _one_ suspicious thing about the guy. I don’t know what dirt we can get on him if he’s going to be so rudimentarily tedious.”

“Alright. So this was a bust. Big deal, I’m sure Theo and Draco have a better plan.”

— — —

“We don’t.” 

“What do you mean, you don’t?”

“We don’t have a plan.” Theo snaked an arm around Harry’s waist. “Currently, we’re hoping Narcissa has something up her sleeve to knock some sense into our resident bookworm.”

“What about you, Zabini? Harry?” Ron asked, staring up from the Floo. “Any luck following him around?”

“Literally the biggest waste of a day, Weasley,” Blaise said, Luca happily dangling from his shoulders.

“I just don’t know what she _sees_ in this guy,” Draco moaned, trying very hard not to whine his words. “She’s always wanted the passion. I know this. I’ve heard her drone on about Pride and Prejudice for hours. She wants the Mr Darcy experience and that man is no Mr Darcy.”

“Maybe she got tired of waiting for Mr Darcy and settled for Mr Collins instead,” Ginny suggested. She was met with several blank stares. “What? She showed me that movie thing. You know. On the tele-something. Colin Firth is dishy.”

“Focus, Ginevra.” Draco snapped his fingers in her face. 

“Sorry. He’s just really—,”

“Dishy,” Blaise rolled his eyes. 

“Dishy!” Luca cheered. He kicked his father in the back to punctuate the word. 

“Guys, you’re all useless, you know that, right?” Draco rubbed his eyes. “Why did I even bother enlisting your help?”

“Don’t be like that, Draco,” Ginny said, patting his back. “We’re going to figure it out. You love her, right?”

“He’s so in love with her that he wrote a bloody poem.”

“For _fuck’s sake_ ,” Draco started. “How did you even see that?”

“I was doing my weekly snoop through your desk. There’s usually some sort of expensive chocolate tucked underneath all those parchments.”

“That was private. Also, those chocolates are not for you!”

Theo ignored him.

“Does anyone want to hear it?”

“Say goodbye to your husband, Potter. Nott, I’m going to kill you.”

“Go on, Nott!” Ron encouraged, his voice crackling in the fireplace. Theo turned to his friends, looking like he was going to burst from glee. 

“He’s a romantic, you guys. _My darling Hermione, with eyes full of light and cheeks blushing bright_ —,”

“That’s not how it goes, and you _KNOW IT!”_

— — — 

Hermione stepped into Narcissa’s tea room, brushing down her dress. 

“Hi, Cissa.”

Narcissa stood from her seat and engulfed Hermione in a hug so tight, it was like she hadn’t seen her the week before. 

“How are you, my darling?”

Hermione smiled. Narcissa had become something of an adoptive mother to her during her university years, and the bond had only grown through the following years. 

“Good. Tired.”

“Work keeping you late?”

“It turns out that taking a few months off to go and teach at Hogwarts meant that things piled up at my desk.”

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. You always work too hard, as it is.” Narcissa brushed her delicate fingers across Hermione’s forehead, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. “But never mind that for now, let’s have something to drink and maybe I can persuade you to stay for dinner tonight.”

As soon as Hermione had prepared her cup of tea - milk, no sugar, her host focused her with the patented Narcissa Malfoy look of disapproval. 

“Now, let’s talk about this fiancé of yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> \- Operation B.A.D = Operation Bring Andrew Down
> 
> \- Harry works in the Auror's office but he's without his wand in this scene, which is why he's so crappy at spying on Andrew in the Muggle World. He and Blaise are using some of his stash of Polyjuice. Probably illegally. 
> 
> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears  
> 2\. "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac  
> 3\. "The Wire" by HAIM  
> 4\. "The Lion's Roar" by First Aid Kit  
> 5\. "Heartbreak Warfare" by John Mayer  
> 6\. "I'll Be There For You" by The Rembrandts


	7. Lover, You Should've Come Over

The way Narcissa said _fiancé_ was the same way Draco used to say _Mudblood_ , back in their school days. Hermione shrank into her seat, clutching her cup of tea in both hands like a commoner. The portrait of Pandora Malfoy, Narcissa's mother-in-law, wrinkled her nose as she watched. 

“Cissa—,”

“It’s just that,” Narcissa cut in, tossing her mane of golden hair across one shoulder, “silly of me to say it now, but I always had this little fantasy that you and Draco would get married.”

Hermione's mind went blank. 

“I—uh, um,” her mouth hung open for a brief moment, before she settled on a good, firm rebuttal. “What?”

Her host laughed delicately and placed her teacup on the saucer floating by chair. 

“Oh, darling, I don’t mean to put you in a spot, truly. Nor do I want to make you uncomfortable. It’s my own personal wish, and you’ve no obligation to make it come true, of course. Just a mother’s hope for her only son.” She blinked at Hermione with tragically doe-like eyes. 

“Andrew is a very nice man.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“And you know I’m,” Hermione faltered, “that, well, I’m in love with him.”

“Are you?”

“Narcissa—,”

“I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean anything by it. Truly.”

“Right. It’s just,” Hermione paused, reaching back to an earlier phrase, “what did you mean by me and Draco? I—he doesn’t care for me in that way. You know that. He never has.”

And then, to Hermione’s bemusement, Narcissa Malfoy burst out laughing in a totally unladylike manner. She frowned at her host, and then glanced out of the window, half-expecting a pig to fly past.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Narcissa wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and smothered her residual giggles with a palm over her mouth, “but that was terribly funny.”

“What is?”

“That Draco never had feelings for you.”

Hermione’s heart clenched so painfully that she almost dropped her cup. This was unbearable.

“He _doesn’t_ ,” she insisted. “He’s probably dated all of the eligible women in England by now. And, you know, more overseas. I assume. Probably.” She offered the explanation partly to satisfy Narcissa, and mostly to placate herself — as if it would soothe the faraway ache inside her own body, but it did little other than leave a bitter taste in her mouth. The amused look on Narcissa’s face morphed to one of understanding and her smile faded. 

“Of course. If he _was_ in love with you, he would have told you by now.”

“Exactly.”

“Because if he had true feelings for you, it would have been terribly foolish to overlook them and turn to other women for brief affairs.”

“Yeah.”

“And you having a fiancé wouldn’t have prevented him from confessing his feelings, correct?”

“Yes.” Hermione frowned, unsure where this bizarre conversation was leading. She was already confused. “No? Wait—I don’t understand—,”

“And you love Andrew,” Narcissa continued, “as you said before?”

“I—yes? Yes.”

Narcissa smiled at Hermione, looking satisfied. 

“Darling, no need to fret. My little questionnaire is over. I’m just making sure that my beloved Hermione is truly happy.”

“I am. I am happy.”

“Well, then. That’s all I needed to know. Now, scones?”

Hermione spent the rest of her afternoon chatting to Narcissa about her work and various wedding plans, and drank two more cups of tea. She left through the Floo to meet Andrew for dinner in Diagon Alley, although she was full from the three scones she had shoved into her mouth.

— — —

As soon as Hermione was gone, Narcissa reached for the portable cellular phone that Draco had gifted her, pressing her manicured finger against the big button to select his name from the list of contact numbers.

“Darling?”

_“Mum? How’d it go?”_

Narcissa’s mouth turned upwards in a deliciously evil smile. 

“You were right, she doesn’t love him.”

There was a silence and then,

_“You’re sure? Absolutely sure? I couldn’t pursue her if she did, Mum, you have to be sure.”_

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

_“Fuck, thank Merlin! Oh, shit. I mean, fuck—sorry, Mum, I’ll just—.”_

“Yes, Draco, I think it would be best if you stopped talking. Now, get to work. You know I want grandchildren.”

— — —

**October 2004**

Ginny called the meeting just before eleven on Friday night. Draco was still out with Hermione for their weekly dinner and he would be joining them soon. Luca was sleeping over at the Burrow with his grandparents while everyone convened at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for late-night scheming and a glass of port. 

“Alright, we’ve got just over one week before this shit-show happens so we need to start moving quickly.”

“Listen,” Theo said, as he flicked through the channels on the television Harry had set up in the living room, “Harry and I were talking and we both agreed that we’ve gotten nowhere. I don’t even know how it got so close to the wedding day, so how are we supposed to sabotage it now? People are already coming, you realise that, right? It’s in the magazines. Even Rita Skeeter relented and did an article on them and it was the highest selling edition of the Daily Prophet in the past two years.”

Blaise nodded at Ginny.

“He has a point, love. It’s the talk of Wizarding London. I think it might be too late for us to intervene as her friends.”

“Seriously? We took _vows_ , Blaise Zabini.” Ginny levelled a betrayed glare at her husband. “You’re _supposed_ to be supportive.”

“I am, but—,”

“Ginny,” Harry interrupted, “let’s face it. We’ve been hinting to Hermione at every possible moment that Andrew is not right for her. She’s simply refusing to see it.” At the look on Ginny’s face, he shook his hands out, alarmed. “I’m not saying we should give up. I just think that this has to come straight from Draco. And not that Andrew’s a dick. He doesn’t need to bring it up to her, it’s not the most important thing here.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He has to tell her how he feels.”

“What, you think he’d really do it?”

“Don’t you want him to?”

“Of _course_ I want him to, but I’m a pragmatist and we have to have as many backup plans in place as possible.” Ginny sat down at the head of the table and propped her chin up in her palm. “She’s never looked more lost, you guys. She rushed headfirst into this relationship because she was terrified of being alone and I think it’s truly made her forget what she _could_ have. Not just being with a better man than Andrew, but having a love that would move mountains, you know? Like bloody telemovies, or whatever you call them,” she gestured to the screen, where Julia Roberts was snogging Hugh Grant. “She’s spent her whole bloody life reading books about people falling in love. She really deserves it for herself.”

“You know,” Theo said, “it really surprises me that she doesn’t see how incompatible she is with Andrew. They’re so boring together. Why doesn’t she understand that?”

“Same affliction that we all suffer from. _Stubborn Arse-itis_.” 

— — — 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Draco asked, his voice still hoarse from choking on his wine when Hermione relayed the information to him. She sighed, taking a sip from her own glass. They were tucked into their usual booth at their favourite trattoria in Muggle London. Hermione kept her eyes on the dessert plate in front of her.

“Andrew thinks we should move to Scotland after we get married.”

“Right, that’s what I thought you said, but see, I also know that it’s impossible because there’s no way in hell that you would actually even entertain the idea of moving.”

“ _Draco—_ ,”

“No, _Hermione_ , what the fuck?” He set down his napkin and reached across the table to tilt her chin up, gently making her look him in the eye. “What is this? Why is this even open for discussion?”

“I’m not sure about it yet. We’re just talking.”

“But your whole life is here. Your work. Your apartment. Your friends. Yes, magic comes in handy with travelling across the world, but are you going to leave everything behind and follow him? Are you seriously even considering it?!”

“He’ll be my husband, Draco, and you have to compromise when you’re in a marriage. It’s just what you have to do.”

Draco nodded, bitterness coursing through his veins. All of his excitement, all of the bravado he had collected in an effort to tell her the truth—it fizzled out of him. He leaned back in his chair and focused her with a hard look.

“Tell me then; what compromises has Andrew made for you?”

— — — 

The Floo flared up and Draco walked through, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he kissed Ginny’s cheek and dropped to the sofa in-between Theo and Blaise. He looked positively green.

“How was dinner?”

“Thanks for asking. It was bloody fantastic; she had tiramisu, I had the affogato, she told me Andrew wants to move to Scotland after the wedding and I’m going to drink myself into a stupor tonight if you don’t tell me we’ve got a solid plan for stopping this fucking disaster—is that port?” He finally took a breath and snatched the glass from Blaise’s hand, gulping it down in one go as he stared at the television. “What are we watching? Notting Hill?”

“Mate—,” Theo pulled the glass from his hand and squeezed his shoulder. 

“ _Scotland_? What the fuck?” Ginny stalked over to sit in front of Draco on the coffee table. “You’re serious?”

“Apparently, Andrew thinks that it would be best to raise the kids there.” He spat out the last three words like they were burning his mouth and winced.

“The kids?”

“Yep.” Draco felt nauseous at the thought of Hermione having another man’s children.

“Wonderful,” Blaise spat out, “he’s already got her barefoot and pregnant and giving up her life here.”

“What the _fuck_?” Ginny repeated, throwing her hands in the air. “What—who is this? Who is this man?”

“What does Hermione think of Andrew’s plan?” Harry asked, his voice mild. Draco offered him a shrug. 

“I don’t know, really. She doesn’t sound like she’s convinced but I’m seriously fucking worried, guys. Forget me, forget how I feel. She could be moving away from us for good.”

“Did you, by any chance, happen to mention at dinner that you’re in love with her and that if she chose you, she wouldn’t have to upend her life?” 

“Not funny, Nott. Anyway, I’m beginning to think it’s not a good idea anymore.”

“You know you just have to tell her, right?” Ginny put one hand on his knee, the other offering him her glass of wine. He accepted it, gratefully.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You were going to tell her the night she came back home.”

“With her fiancé. The night she came back home _with her fiancé_.”

“But why is that holding you back? He’s not right for her. She’s not even happy. Not _really_.”

“Gin—,” he shook his head, “it’s difficult. I don’t know how to do this. I’m fucking it up. All I do every day is pretend to go to work—,”

“Hey, yeah, how is that, by the way?” Theo asked. “I went by the lab on Monday and you weren’t in.”

“Oh, I don’t go anymore. Turns out that planning a wedding is bloody exhausting, especially when it’s not your own and you’re coveting the bride. So I bought the place and promoted my apprentice.”

Harry snorted and muttered something that sounded a lot like “ _poncey upper-class git”_ into his glass. 

“That’s a piss-poor idea, mate,” Blaise tutted, rolling his eyes as a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hermione’s not going to be impressed when she finds out.”

“Let’s stop this wedding and _then_ worry about it, alright, darling?” Ginny instructed, turning her attention back to Draco. 

“What were you saying?”

“It’s just doing my head in. You realise we’re leaving for Scotland in two days, right? It’s too late now.”

“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry said, suddenly standing up from his armchair, “let’s go for a ride. You and me. I think we need to talk.”

— — —

Hermione walked into her flat and sighed. Andrew was sleeping on the sofa, covered in a pile of his students’ papers. She dropped her bag to the carpet and tiptoed past him to the washroom, drawing herself a bath while she ran over the evening’s events.

There was still a heavy cloud hanging over her heart from dinner with Draco. She stepped into the hot water and sank down until her chin was wet, knees drawn up beyond the surface like little mountains above the water. 

Draco hadn’t taken the news well. It wasn’t even news, really. Just an idea. But he had left his dessert untouched and excused himself to leave, handing a generous amount of Galleons to the server in payment before he gave her one final look of despair and walked out. 

Despair and confusion and hurt… _mixed with some other emotion?_

But that was impossible, so she shook her head and let her mind wander. 

If only Andrew realised what he was asking her to give up. London was her home and her safe place. The non-profit she had started after university was her pride and joy. To help give non-wizarding creatures more rights within the magical community was something she had always dreamed of doing, and Andrew wanted her to hand her life’s work over to her staff?

But, he worked at Hogwarts. And his family were from Scotland. 

And as he’d put it…

_“Love, look, I mean no offense by this, but…you don’t really have a family anymore. But I do, so please just consider it. They’d be thrilled to have us close by. You’d be part of a new family.”_

You don’t really have a family anymore.

Hermione shut her eyes and let twin tears slide down her cheeks. They made tiny noises as they dripped into the bath. The one thing she really wished, aside from the many little wishes she had tucked away into her heart, was that her parents were her. If she could talk to them—or even just hug them, everything would be okay. Her father would be sensible and see everything from an unbiased point of view, and her mother would kiss her forehead and tell her that all of her troubles could be solved with a good cup of tea. 

And maybe if they were here, the ache in Hermione’s heart would go away. 

Because…the truth was that this _was_ happening too fast. She had said yes too quickly. She had agreed to a speedy wedding without even thinking through the massive task it would take to plan said wedding. She even bought her wedding dress without much thought. It was plain and boring and dull, and it hung in her closet, tucked all the way into the back. But this wedding was happening now, and that was that. The caterer had been paid, and people were coming into the country through specially ordered port-keys. Molly Weasley was already starting to work on the wedding cake. Andrew’s goddaughter was going to be the flower girl and apparently, she had been practicing for weeks.

“Love?” There was a soft knock on the door. “You okay?”

She reached a hand up to brush the residual tears from her cheeks and sat upright. 

“Yes! Yes, I’m okay!”

“Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep in there.”

“I’m just getting out now.”

“Okay. Shall I wait up for you?”

“No, you go to sleep. I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night, love.”

As Hermione sank back into the water, soaking up the last few seconds of peace before she had to go out and face the world again, she had a final thought. 

_He’s my family._

— — — 

Harry turned the key in the ignition and Draco pressed his palms to his seat beside his thighs, feeling the engine whirring to life underneath him. It was always exciting to drive in one of Harry’s cars. They were secretly very thrilling to Draco but he wouldn’t dare admit it to anyone - especially Potter. They eased out into the road and were soon coasting along in the quiet night. It was silent in the car for a while and Draco enjoyed the feeling of the warm breeze tousling his hair in the open convertible. 

“We talked before you got to the house.”

“Yeah?"

“You need to tell her. If you don’t, we’ll lose her forever. Not just you—all of us will lose her. She’s a sister to me, and I can’t bear the thought of her going through with something that will eventually make her miserable.”

Draco rested his elbow against the door, looking up at the dark sky. 

“I told you before, I—,”

“—can’t, I know. You said you didn’t know how.”

“That’s right.”

“But I think you’re bullshitting me.”

Draco just glared at him and Harry kept his eyes on the road, turning the car down a poorly lit road that circled the nearby park. 

“I think,” Harry continued, “that you’re terrified that after you confess your love to her, she’s going to turn you down and break your heart.”

“Potter, I—,”

“Isn’t it true?”

Harry slowed the car to a stop and Draco opened the side door, leaping out and stalking across the grassy field. He was a few metres away from Harry when he said,

“Yes.” He turned to look back at his friend, who was leaning against the car, hands in his pockets. 

“I thought so.”

“How did you know that it was right with Theo?”

“What?”

“With Theo. How did you know it was meant to be?”

Harry walked across to him, chewing on his lip as he contemplated the question. 

“We spent a lot of time together after you and Hermione became friends. Forced, really. Our little group made of up of snakes and lions.”

“Couldn’t be helped.”

“We were good friends. It was nice to start over as adults. We could be friends without the threat of war looming over us, and I could say the same thing about you and Blaise. One ordinary day, I looked at him and didn’t see my friend anymore. I saw my future.”

“And then?”

“And then,” Harry bent down to sit on the grass, “my life became about a million times better because we talked over it and realised that we had feelings for each other.”

Draco sat down too, stretching out his long legs and lying back. He looked up at sparse scattering of stars. They were always less bright in the city. Hermione explained that it was due to something called light pollution but he didn’t really understand what it meant. 

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“Happier each day.”

“And you think she could be happy with me?”

“Haven’t you been listening? Why do you think we’re all trying to make this happen? At the end of the day, Andrew’s a good man. He’ll keep her safe. He’ll provide her with the things she needs. She won’t ever want for anything in her life.”

“Great. Wonderful.”

“That being said, Andrew is also _not_ the right man for her. He doesn’t see her beauty or her passion. He’s blind to the strength of her love and her courage. He wasn’t here for the war, he didn’t go to Hogwarts. His family was safe because they stayed out of it. He never saw her sacrificing everything she had for the good of wizardkind.”

“He also didn’t stand there and watch her get tortured.”

“That’s it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“That’s why you’re being such a coward about this. After over a half a decade of friendship, you’re still feeling the guilt of it.”

“How could I not?” Draco’s voice was a whisper in the dark. 

“Because she forgave you. We all forgave you. Get the fuck over yourself and accept that you’re one of us now.”

Draco thumped his fist against the ground.

“It’s all very well to try and get her to break off this engagement with him, but when it comes down to it, he’s a man with no scars. No past. He’s new and…clean.”

“And you think Hermione’s new and clean? You think she doesn’t have scars? That she doesn’t have trauma? Don’t you remember?”

“No, I do, but—,”

“You think she’d choose the easy road? After all this?”

“I think she deserves the choice.”

“So _give_ her the choice. Make yourself an option to her.”

“Yeah.”

“No, don’t ‘ _yeah_ ’ me, mate. Say you will. _Promise_ _me_ you will. Don’t fuck it up because you’re scared. Don’t break them up only to go running with your tail between your legs. Tell her you love her and give her the chance to either reject you or choose you. Regardless of which way it goes, it’ll be miles better than spending the rest of your days wondering what could have happened.”

“You’re right.”

“We’re going to Scotland in two days. You need to get a moment to be alone with her and tell her before it is too late and she marries the dullest man this side of the equator.”

There was a silence, and then,

“I can’t believe I’ve now received pep-talks from both you and Ron Weasley. What has my life come to?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> \- I don't know about you but I usually have a moment or two of self-doubt when facing challenges in my life. I hope I portrayed this well enough in this chapter. He's a mopey boy. 
> 
> \- We had a time jump! I didn't want to focus on any of the group's efforts to break up HermDrew (or whatever) because obviously they didn't work. I'm getting us close to wedding week, which shall start in the next chapter. Get ready for drama and lots of feelings. 
> 
> \- I know you all hate Andrew, so I thought I'd throw you another nice piece of fury-inducing speech from him so you can be mad again. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> \- The chapter title is a beautiful song, and my favourite lines are as follows: 
> 
> _It's never over,  
>  My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder_
> 
> and
> 
> _Sometimes a man gets carried away,  
>  When he feels like he should be having his fun  
> Much too blind to see the damage he's done  
> Sometimes a man must awake to find that, really,  
> He has no one_
> 
> EDIT: You guys, I clearly underestimated your hate for Andrew because the comments are already just...😂😂😂
> 
> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears  
> 2\. "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac  
> 3\. "The Wire" by HAIM  
> 4\. "The Lion's Roar" by First Aid Kit  
> 5\. "Heartbreak Warfare" by John Mayer  
> 6\. "I'll Be There For You" by The Rembrandts  
> 7\. "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley


	8. All Of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! I'm so sorry I am late with this chapter. And if you read Captive, I'm sorry about the delay on that one too. It's been a rough couple of weeks with work wrapping up for the year. Actually, this whole year has been rough! It's the first time I've been able to write in a while, and I missed it so much. Actually, I'm currently on a family holiday and I'm writing from my hotel room. 
> 
> I hope you are all well ❤️
> 
> Enjoy the chapter x

After Hermione finished letting Andrew’s cousin do her makeup and hair, she toddled down to the formal sitting room in too-high heels. Andrew looked up from the paper he was reading, eyes widening at the sequins.

“You look absolutely lovely.”

Hermione tugged on the itchy dress and smiled, unsure. 

“Really? It’s not really what I would’ve picked but Ella said I should—,”

“Honestly, it’s great. You're gorgeous. You look like a Christmas tree decoration!” He stood, dropping a kiss to her forehead before holding her at arms’ length as he appraised her. She shifted from one foot to the other.

“Well, I’m off to the pub, then. The girls are all ready too. See you after?”

“No,” Andrew released her shoulders, shaking his head. “Remember? You won’t see me until tomorrow. Tradition.”

“Oh, right.”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow, darling. At our wedding.” He waggled his eyebrows and Hermione smiled. It seemed unreal. She was getting married tomorrow, and it had crept up to her like a shadow. 

“See you then.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

— — — 

Draco paced in front of the pub, looking out for the rest of the bridal party to arrive. While he waited, he thought back to his earlier conversation with Harry. Their plan for him to get Hermione alone would have gone swimmingly if she had not been ambushed by every single member of Andrew’s fucking perfect family since they arrived in Scotland that Monday. It was Friday now and he still hadn’t managed a solitary conversation with his best friend. Every time he tried to speak to her, she would get whisked off to meet another bleeding member of the extended family. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Andrew’s aunt was trying to set Draco up with her daughter, Harriet...or Heather or something, who—with the least possible amount of offence intended—wouldn’t interest him if they were the last two people on earth. So he was trying to avoid her as well. As well as the rest of the mothers with eligible daughters that were attending the ceremony. 

It was officially a shit-show. 

“There he is!” 

He spun to see Hermione with Ginny and a gaggle of women, most of whom were already looking inebriated. 

“Everyone inside already?” Ginny asked, coming up beside Draco and linking her arm in his. He nodded, staring at Hermione. She was wearing a sparkly sequin dress that was entirely not in her style. Someone had put makeup on her. And it wasn’t _bad_ —just…not her. She looked embarrassed as Draco stared, before holding up a chamber pot and smiling weakly. 

“Heard of this tradition?”

— — —

Inside the pub, Draco watched in horror as Hermione proceeded to kiss all of the men in sight as they dropped Muggle pennies into the chamber pot. Ginny had pulled him aside to explain that it was some old tradition for brides-to-be and the smoke was still clearing out of his ears. 

“She’s having fun, isn’t she?” asked one of Andrew’s Muggle friends from a neighbouring estate. She was beautiful. Long, shiny black hair hung down her back like a waterfall and she had eyes the same colour as the Great Lake on a sunny day. At another time in his life, Draco would have flirted with her until she’d agree to come back to his room, but now, he could only nod and keep his eyes firmly directed towards Hermione. 

“Mmhmm.”

“She’s your best friend, yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And do you usually stare at your best friends like that?”

This jolted Draco out of his reverie and he looked at the girl, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“I, uh—Claire, right?”

“That’s right.” She raised an eyebrow, the faintest smirk playing against her mouth. “But I’m surprised you remembered, what with being so distracted and all.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Right.”

“She’s my friend. That’s all.”

Before Claire could insinuate anything further, Hermione was pulling on Draco’s arm, tugging him towards her and away from embarrassment. She walked backwards, dragging him over to a small, secluded corner where the music was dulled and it was just them for a minute.

“Hey!” She smiled at him, her cheeks rosy. He smiled back. She pressed a hand against his chest, grasping at his shirt. 

“You’re happy.”

“I am.”

“And drunk.”

“Am not.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. I had one shot of whisky and that was half an hour ago. I’m just happy. It’s so weird being here. I don’t know. It’s weird. But good. I think.”

Unable to stop himself, Draco leaned forward and kissed her cheek. 

“Fine, you’re just Hermione-drunk, then.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him, playfully with her free hand. The other, she seemed to realise, was still holding the chamber pot. It was rather full. 

“Aren’t you gonna donate?”

“What?”

She shook the pot. Draco laughed, a hand digging into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a Sickle and grimaced. 

“Sorry, this is all I have.” He tossed the coin in, and only when it hit the pile underneath did he realise what was going to happen. She looked up at him with warm eyes and he felt himself pulling nearer. The hand clutching at chest clenched tighter. He was sure she could feel his heart thudding erratically under her palm.

When his lips brushed over hers, he heard her sharp intake of breath and knew she was remembering their first, inadvertent kiss. So he kissed her more firmly for just two heartbeats before pulling back. When he opened his eyes, Hermione's were still focused on him but the smile in her expression was gone; replaced by hazy surprise.

“I—we shouldn’t—,” she managed to breathe, before she dropped the chamber pot at their feet and some magnetic pull drew them back together…and then he was _really_ kissing her. 

And she was kissing him back.

A small hand wrapped around the back of his neck and he drew her up to fit perfectly against him, carefully holding her with one arm snaking around her waist. She bit his lower lip and he couldn’t help the moan that escaped him. _This was the best kiss of his life,_ he thought.. _Truly. This kiss should have its own Order of Merlin._ And then—

She was gone from his arms, crouching to pick up the pennies that had spilled onto the floor. He stood, stock still, trying to slow his breathing, and when he had the courage to look at her, she was gone. 

— — —

Draco left shortly after, choosing to walk back in the dark rather than Apparate. He said a few hasty goodbyes, and before his friends could protest, he had gone. The chilly night air did him little good but by the time he was back at Andrew’s family home, he knew what he had to do. 

He went up to Hermione’s room and stood outside the door. It took him a minute to get up the courage, but he finally knocked. 

“Hello?”

Nothing.

He knocked again, calling out her name. A lock turned and he glanced around to see the opposite bedroom door open. Narcissa stepped out, already dressed in a nightgown. She had a very sleepy Luca in her arms, his head lolling on her shoulder.

“Darling?” she whispered. “ What are you doing back so soon?”

“Looking for Hermione. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Narcissa dropped a kiss to the little boy’s head, “just having a hard time sleeping in a new cot, I think. He’s been fussy ever since Mummy and Daddy left, isn’t that right, my sweet little angel?” 

“So, is she here? Have you seen her?”

“Hermione’s downstairs. I met her just now when I was getting milk for the baby.”

“Oh. Right, okay. Goodnight, Mum.” Draco turned to walk away. 

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

Narcissa smiled. 

“She told me what happened. Have courage, my love.”

— — —

Draco found Hermione sitting at the large kitchen table in the dark, with only a tiny _Lumos_ at the end of her wand to keep her company. He watched her sip tea from a large mug.

“Hermione?”

She started, whipping her head around to see where he was, and he walked over to sit opposite her. He drew out his own wand, lighting it brightly enough to see that her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. He frowned. 

“Why are _you_ sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have—that is, it was wrong of me to do that.”

“Kiss me.”

“Yes.”

“I think I kissed you first.”

“Fine. It was wrong of _both_ of us.”

Draco dropped his wand and reached out across the table to place his hand over hers. 

“Hermione, I have to say something.”

She drew her hand away, drawing it up to rest at her collarbone. There was fear plainly splashed across her face and she shook her head.

“Draco, whatever it is, can’t it wait until—,”

“No, Hermione. It can’t wait. For the first time ever, it can’t wait.. I’ve been trying to tell you this for the past few months now and I need to say it before it’s too late.”

“I don’t think that it’s a—,”

“I love you.”

He watched her gaze snap from the table to him, eyes growing cold.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, no, you can’t love me.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because I’m marrying someone else.”

He almost laughed. 

“That has nothing to do with this. This is just between you and me—,”

“It has _everything_ to do with this and you know that. Draco,” she wrenched a hand through her curls, “if this is a joke, or something—,”

“It’s not a joke. I wouldn’t joke about this, of all things. I just—you need to listen to me. Please? Just for five minutes. I get this out and then you can do whatever you want with it. Or don’t. You can ignore what I’ve said and continue on with your life and pretend like nothing has happened.”

He risked looking at Hermione and saw that she looked nervous and tired enough to comply. She dipped her head in agreement.

“Five minutes.”

Draco shut his eyes and started to speak the words that had been revolving in his head from the minute that he realised he loved his best friend. They came out in a rush.

“When we were kids, I was a dick. I know that. Everyone knows that. I was raised by a horrible father and I took out my feelings on you and other Muggle-borns. I hurt you constantly. I did nothing when my fucking psychotic aunt decided to maul you in my own home.” He gulped, hot tears pricking his eyes at that particular memory. “And then, as if your bravery and courage during the war wasn’t enough, you testified for my family. For me and my mother. You saved us from a life sentence in Azkaban and I will be in your debt forever because I am so fucking grateful to you for getting her out of there. I thought that would be it; that you’d never want to see me again, but then I met you at university. And,” he laughed, brushing away a tear on his cheek that had escaped, “I think it was some sort of miracle, because you let me start again with you. As if I deserved a second chance. Me. A fucking Death Eater.”

She opened her mouth to protest him calling himself by that name, like she always did, but he carried on,

“I got to experience a life where Hermione Jean Granger was my friend. I had so much fun with you during those years in our little bubble, and it wasn’t even like we were doing anything amazing or life-altering. We were just students, for the first time in ages. You weren’t saving the world, I wasn’t trying to destroy it.”

“Draco…”

“We became godparents together. I couldn’t believe it when Gin and Blaise asked us. I mean, obviously I could believe they’d ask you, but _me_? I wasn’t worthy of it, but I love that little boy with all my heart, and that’s all thanks to you. Your friendship brought me to all of the happiness in my life. And I hurt you so badly in return for it.” He took a deep breath, continuing, 

“I never knew you had feelings for me back then, Hermione.” At this, she looked at him with panic, but he shook his head. “I was totally blind and it makes me so angry to think that I wasted all of that time. I don’t presume to believe you still think I’m deserving of your affection, because Merlin knows that I’m not. But I’m telling you that, regardless of how you feel about me now, I love you. I am in love with you. Fuck,” he laughed, “I want to shout it from the roof. I love Hermione Granger. All this time, I was so foolish, thinking that my feelings for you were just friendly. You’ve asked me a million times why I never go out with the same woman twice, and for years, I thought it was because I wanted a bit of fun. But it wasn’t that. I didn’t follow through on those countless dates because none of those women were you. It must have been horrid for you to see me parading them around and it kills me to know that it hurt you. It took me five years to realise how stupid I was and I am truly sorry for that.

“And then, when I figured it out, I couldn’t wait to tell you. That night you came back from Hogwarts, I had it all planned out. I thought I’d confess my feelings and that would be it. But you brought Andrew back to meet us, and I saw my future ending just as quickly as I thought it would begin. My heart was breaking and I guess that’s how you must have felt all those years. 

“So here we are, on your wedding week and I’m telling you this at the worst possible time.” He laughed again, shakily. “I just want you to be happy. That’s all I want. I want you to have the best, and if that means marrying him,” he swallowed, feeling bitter, “then I’ll stand aside and be—I’ll be happy for you. But if,” he didn’t bother hiding the desperation in his voice, “you still have any of those feelings for me, I want you to know that I would make it my life’s mission to give you the most happiness and love possible.”

“ _Draco—_ ,”

“Please don’t marry him, Hermione. Marry me.”

“I—we can’t…”

“I want your early mornings. I want your messy moments and the way you fall asleep every time we go to the cinema. I want your theories and your constant reorganisation of your bookshelves. I want your wild hair. I want your arguments and your laughter. I want _everything_ that you are. And in return, you can have everything that I am. Everything. I have nothing worth taking but all I have is your. My heart is yours. It’s always been yours.”

There was silence as Draco finished spilling his heart onto the table and he opened his eyes to see that Hermione’s face was shiny with tears, her mouth open. The only sound in the room for a few moments was soft, sniffly breathing. 

“Why couldn’t you have realised this earlier?”

“Hermione—,”

“I loved you for all this time and you _just_ realised it? Do you understand how long I waited for you?”

“I know I hurt you.”

“ _Hurt me_? You broke my _heart_ , Draco! Over and over and over.”

“I—,”

“I’m getting married. _Tomorrow_.”

“I know, and I am truly sorry for doing this so late, but I—,”

“Andrew doesn’t deserve this. You can’t expect me to destroy this entire wedding for you.”

“I know.”

“And his _family_. Oh, Merlin, his family are all so happy about this. They all want this.”

“But do _you_ want it?”

“That doesn’t matter, Draco!” She slammed a fist against the table in anger and Draco’s heart stirred. Despite the situation, he was happy that she was looking more like her fiery self.

“What you want matters above all, Hermione. Don’t you dare start martyring yourself for a man who wants you to leave your entire life behind.”

Hermione furiously wiped away her tears and stood, reaching for her wand. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and then opened it again.

“It’s too late, Draco. You left this too late.”

And then, she rushed away, leaving him in the dark. 

— — —

The next morning, Draco was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys haven't seen a lot of the interactions between Draco and Hermione but this iteration of the story was always meant to be just Draco in his feelings. And he's a chaotic mess. (Not to say that Hermione isn't.) So this is the first true interaction between our couple where Draco can admit his feelings, and as you saw, he basically just unleashed them on a very emotionally unsteady Hermione. So...drama. I'm excited for the next chapter because I've prepared a very "dramatic sad boi" moment for him that I am sure you will enjoy. Until then, thank you for reading!! xx
> 
> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears  
> 2\. "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac  
> 3\. "The Wire" by HAIM  
> 4\. "The Lion's Roar" by First Aid Kit  
> 5\. "Heartbreak Warfare" by John Mayer  
> 6\. "I'll Be There For You" by The Rembrandts  
> 7\. "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley  
> 8\. "All of Me" by John Legend


	9. One Fine Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Partly burnout, partly laziness. 
> 
> I'm so sorry. 
> 
> I hope you're ready for the finale of this little story, which is very very late.
> 
> Enjoy! xxx

Hermione was in the middle of her third breakdown when Ginny entered the room and swiftly locked the door behind her.

“Okay, we have a problem.” Hermione looked up from the parchment she had shredded to pieces.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, the thing is—wait,” Ginny broke off, properly looking at her friend. “What’s wrong with you? Have you been crying?”

Hermione let out a shaky laugh, swatting at a tear that fell down to her cheek.

“Silly thing, really.”

“Tell me.”

“Last night, at the kissing thing, you know? Draco kissed me.”

Ginny gave her a cryptic look, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that it?”

Hermione gave her friend an incredulous look.

“What do you mean, is that it?”

“Well, it’s no secret that he’s in love with you. See, we had this plan—,”

There was a gentle knock and they turned. Ginny unlocked the door and Narcissa popped her head in.

“Everything okay, my loves? Can I come in?”

Hermione nodded. Ginny pulled a chair from the desk so that the lady could sit.

“We’re just talking about how Draco kissed Hermione last night.”

By the way Narcissa clapped her hand over her mouth and squealed like a second-year, Hermione knew that this was a good thing in her book. The older woman composed herself instantly, smoothing down her dressing gown.

“Sorry. Continue.”

“Well, he kissed me, and then I kissed him back. Like a complete fool. And then we were just snogging like teenagers for about two minutes before I gapped it back here.”

Ginny opened her mouth to reply but Hermione, on a roll, decided to let her friend have the whole story.

“He followed me back at some point and then,” she huffed out a breath, “he told me that he loved me and that I shouldn’t marry Andrew. Gin, it was like a bloody romance novel.”

“It was?”

“It was so funny coming out of his mouth, like the solution to all my issues. ‘Just don’t marry Andrew’. So simple. But this is Draco, you know? Draco Malfoy. Your son.” She sent a look at Narcissa, who nodded understandingly. “He’s a commitment-phobic lothario who’s never so much as looked in my direction before now and I couldn’t possibly—I mean, I couldn’t just leave Andrew for him. It’s so ridiculous.”

“Hermione—,” Narcissa started, but Hermione was now pacing, a hand braced against her chest.

“Right? It’s ridiculous. I mean, I don’t even know if—,”

“Do you love him?” asked a male voice.

Everyone in the room whipped their heads around to look as Theo walked in, followed by Blaise and Harry. They crowded into the room, all wearing bathrobes and slippers. Luca entered last, his bathrobe trailing along the carpeted floor.

“Just come from the sauna?”

“How can you tell?”

“Answer the question, Hermione,” Theo said. “Do you love him?”

Hermione sank down onto the bed, wringing her hands in her lap. Luca climbed onto her lap.

“That’s a complicated quest—,”

“Hermione!”

“Yes! I love him! Is that what you want to hear? I love the man that I’m not marrying today and I can’t fucking believe it!” Hermione shouted, before slapping her hands over her mouth. She looked up at her friends with wide eyes. “Oh, Godric.”

“Fuck,” Luca said, smiling serenely.

Narcissa rose up from her seat, looking majestic. “Everyone, leave us for a moment.”

“But—,” Theo started, and the older witch silenced him with a look. Ginny yanked Luca from Hermione’s grasp and followed the rest of her friends out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Narcissa—,”

“Darling, I’ve seen you passionate about things before.” Narcissa smoothed the skirt of her dress. “I’ve seen you demanding the Wizengamot council to pardon Draco and myself after the war. I’ve seen you pursuing higher education even though any profession you chose would be offered to you on a silver platter—you are, after all, the most famous witch alive. I’ve even seen you passionately arguing as to which order cream and jam are to be placed onto scones. But,” she paused here, taking the time to have a sip of tea, “I’ve not once seen that fire in your eyes when you talk about Andrew.”

Hermione sat silently, and Narcissa continued.

“When Draco first wrote to inform me that he had met you again, I was wary of his desperation to pursue a friendship with you. I didn’t want him to be bullied or harassed for attempting to make things right with you. And you,” she walked up to Hermione, tilting her chin up so she could look her in the eye, “my darling, you went through so much at the hands of our family. My,” she shuddered, “ _sister_. I couldn’t understand why you would even think about befriending my son.”

“He is so much more than what he did,” Hermione said, vehemently. It was something she felt as strongly as the magic running through her blood. Draco Malfoy was a good man.

Narcissa smiled.

“And that is why I love you, Hermione.” She toyed with the belt of her silken robe, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “All my life, I only ever wanted a little girl. When Draco was born, I was thrilled, of course, but I still wanted to try for another. But, the thing is, the healer who helped birth my son told me that he would be my first and last child.”

Hermione watched as a tear fell from the older witch’s cheek to the carpet.

“Narcissa—,”

“I never thought about a little girl again, Hermione. It was a lost dream.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“When you came into our lives with your unrelenting kindness, you took a weary mother and son and breathed life back into us. You, who could have been so bitter and angry. After all, it was through our horrific actions that your parents have been stolen from you.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“You brought us back to life, Hermione.”

Hermione’s cheeks were stained red and she shook her head.

“I only did what—,”

“What no other person has ever done for us. You gave us a chance, and for that, you will always be a part of this family. So,” Narcissa crouched down in front of Hermione, “no matter who you choose today, know that I love you as my own daughter. I don’t think of that little girl in my dreams anymore, because I have you in my life. I am so proud of you and no decision you make will ever change that.”

— — —

Hermione let herself into Andrew’s room and walked over to the open bathroom door. She looked in to see her fiancé standing in front of the mirror, adjusting his suit. He caught the flicker of movement and spun, eyes wide.

“Hermione, what are you doing here?” He walked over, concern clouding over his face. “It’s bad luck for us to see each other before the wedding!”

She smiled softly, and stepped into the bathroom.

“We need to talk.”

— — —

Draco finally opened his apartment door after over thirty-six hours of being on the road. It was dark outside. He was tired, cranky, and ready to drink himself into oblivion.

Hermione would be on her honeymoon by now.

He stepped into the hallway and let his bag slide from his shoulder to the floor. The sound echoed into the unlit hall and he finally pulled his wand from his arm holster to light the apartment. As he did, he noticed a faint magical trace in the air that was most decidedly not his own, and he cautiously took one step forward.

A lifetime of horror movies—courtesy of countless movie nights with Hermione back at Oxford—had taught him not to call out ‘hello?’ when faced with imminent danger. That was how the pretty girl in every movie always died.

He quietly made his way into the lounge, wand at the ready in case he needed to fight.

And then,

“Where the fuck have you been, Draco Malfoy?”

His wand dropped to the floor, clattering noisily against the hardwood. Hermione stood in front of him in a pair of his sweatpants. His university hood swamped her small frame and she glared up at him with her arms crossed across her chest. He lifted one hand out and his fingertips grazed against her curls.

“What’s going on? I—are you real? Am I hallucinating?”

She slapped his hand away.

“You left Scotland and _disappeared_!”

“I didn’t think anyone would care,” Draco said, dazed, “but why are you—,”

“You had your wand and your cellphone with you but you couldn’t let anyone know where you were? We thought you were dead!”

“Dead?” Draco repeatedly, feeling very confused. Hermione advanced and he fell back until his shoulders hit the mantle above the fireplace.

“I thought you were dead, you idiot. Of all the stupid, mindless things to do…” she brushed her fingers against her red-rimmed eyes. “There are people out there who send you those awful Howlers because they think you’re still a Death Eater, Draco. Every time I find one of them at your desk, I worry that some angry person will try to attack you when your guard is down. I’ve been terrified that you were injured or dead, lying somewhere in a ditch because you found yourself held up at wandpoint by some lunatic who wanted revenge.”

“Hermione, I’m fine.”

“I see that now, you absolute prick, but I was worried sick for two days! Narcissa was beside herself! Where the hell were you?”

“I was in a car!”

They both fell silent.

“A car?” Hermione repeated, disbelievingly. Draco nodded, suddenly realising how stupid the whole thing sounded as he played it out for her.

“I took a car with these guys I met at the bar. They told me that they could get me to England. I," he hesitated, "underestimated the time it takes to travel by car. Have you ever heard of a road trip? They're terribly dull.”

Hermione’s expression morphed from confusion to anger. “What the hell are you talking about?” She threw her hands up in the air. “You’re a wizard! You could have literally Apparated back home in a minute! You could have even taken a bloody plane!”

“But that’s the thing! After we spoke and you said, you know, what you said, I didn’t want to be here. Or there, obviously. I just had to leave, and it made sense to go the long way because…” he broke off, embarrassment flooding his cheeks with colour. “I wanted to be—,”

“Merlin’s actual balls, Draco, you came home the long way because you wanted to have a sulk, didn’t you? Like a bloody teenager!”

“Well,” he chanced a glance at her, “I wouldn’t put it exactly like that but, yes. I suppose.”

Hermione shut her eyes, appalled.

“You are such an overdramatic man.”

“I was sad!”

“That doesn’t mean you drop off the face of the earth! You are a grown-up, you twit!” she chastened. “What if there had been an emergency or something? What if we needed to reach you?”

“Wait,” Draco finally snapped out of it, holding his hand out to grasp Hermione’s wrist, “why are you here? What’s happened? Are you okay? Mum? Luca? What is it?”

Her glare softened and she rolled her eyes. “Took you long enough. Everyone is fine.”

She stepped away, taking her wand from her pocket. “We’ve all been waiting at the places we thought you might come. I volunteered to stay here. Actually, wait, I’d better send a Patronus so Narcissa can stop panicking.”

As she moved to cast the spell, Draco caught her wrist once more and pulled her closer to him. “Just before you do, please explain this to me, because I’m very sleep-deprived and I don’t think I’ve quite understood what’s happening.”

“We’ve been waiting for you to come home, Draco. All of us. Blaise and Ginny are waiting at the Manor, Theo’s at the lab and Harry’s been flying around London on his broom on the off-chance you were walking about in the town. Your mother,” Hermione broke off to shake her head, “is at my apartment, going completely spare. She nearly broke the International Statute of Secrecy by trying to involve MI5 in locating you. I can't believe it. You were off on a bloody road trip this whole time.”

“But your wedding, Hermione, what about your wedding? Andrew?”

“It was called off.”

He didn’t know how, but those four words managed to restart Draco’s heart.

“Called off?” he choked out, his voice hoarse.

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, sighing as she tugged Draco to sit on the couch. As they sank down into the cushions, she shrugged. “Turned out that I couldn’t marry him.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” the corner of her mouth lifted into a smile, “the night before my wedding, my best friend in the world told me that he loved me.”

Draco considered her for a moment and a grin crept onto his face.

“Right before your wedding?”

“Yes. Right before.”

“What a dick.”

She nodded, sagely. “He really is, isn’t he? Too bad he’s also the most important person in my life.”

He didn’t know if it was possible, but he felt like he was glowing from her words.

“What about Andrew? And his family?”

She gave him another shrug. “After I told him I couldn’t marry him, his mum tried to hex me and your mum sent her flying across her own sitting room. We all got out of there pretty quickly after that.”

“So, you’re not engaged anymore.”

Hermione held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger.

“Definitely not engaged.”

Draco’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “And you broke it off because—,”

“You really are sleep-deprived, aren’t you?” Hermione asked, pushing her fingers through his hair as she tugged him closer to her. “I broke it off because you were right about everything, Draco. I deserve the very best.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Yes. As it turns out, the very best for me…” Hermione leaned over to brush her lips against Draco’s, and it took all he had not to throw her over his shoulder and take her to the bedroom, “is you.”

— — —

_**A year later…** _

Luca walked down the aisle, smiling at all of the guests. It was nice of them to come to see him. He was in charge of the ring cushion. Mummy and Daddy walked behind him, and Aunty Cissy and Uncle Theo were behind them. Luca watched as Uncle Draco took his place at the front of the path, just like he had in the practice. But this was for real, Mummy had told him. Aunty ‘Mione was at the very back with Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron. She was dressed like a princess. Aunty Cissy said she was a bride but he didn’t know what it meant. When they reached the end of the aisle, Uncle Draco waved to him and Daddy asked for the cushion. He didn’t want to give it, but Daddy told him he could have it back later. Mummy took his hand and they sat down. Aunty Cissy sat down next to him.

Aunty Cissy smelled nice.

She was looking at Uncle Draco and then she started crying.

“Mummy,” Luca whispered, and Mummy bent down. “Aunty Cissy is sad.”

Mummy looked at Aunty Cissy and shook her head. “No, baby. Aunty Cissy is happy,” she whispered. “She’s so happy about this wedding that she is crying _happy_ tears. I might cry, too.”

“Is this my ‘edding, Mummy?”

“No, love, remember? It’s Aunty Hermione and Uncle Draco’s wedding.”

Luca wrinkled his nose and Uncle Draco winked at him.

“But is it for me?”

He heard Aunty Cissy laugh and Mummy smiled, too.

“Yes, love,” she said. “It’s for you. Now, stop trying to smell Aunty Cissy and sit up straight like a good boy.”

— — —

Hermione stepped into their suite and sighed. It was beautiful. They had left the party somewhere after midnight, so it was still dark here in Greece. It was a Muggle property so they had come in from the Santorini portkey point and Apparated up to the door of the hotel.

Draco was sorting something out with the front desk, so she took the opportunity to go into the bathroom to freshen up.

By the time she had finished washing her face, there was a gentle tap on the front door and she heard the lock click. She quickly turned the lights off with a flick of her wand and made for the bedroom in record speed. Moonlight streamed in through the open windows.

“Love?” Draco called out, “are you okay? Why is it dark in here?”

She smoothed her dress out, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you come and find out?”

A minute later, the creak of the hinges on the bedroom door made her pulse race and she grinned.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“You know they have electricity here, right? I’m not an expert on the matter, but I’m pretty sure it’s something that Muggles do rather well.”

She ignored him, standing and twirling. “Are you going to help me out of this dress or shall I be doing that myself?”

Draco was in front of her in a second, turning her gently to gain access to the hidden zip on the back of her gown. He brushed his lips against the shell of her ear.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” he said, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

“What, unzipping my dress?”

A soft pinch against her waist made her grin, but her smile faded as Draco undid the dress, mouthing kisses along her bare back as he did. She turned as the dress fell to the floor, leaving her in the lingerie that Ginny insisted she wear. Dark green lace, just for him.

“How do I look?”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said, the earnest honesty in his voice enough to make her cry. He lifted her easily, walking over to the bed to set her down on the duvet.

“Are you happy?” she asked, and his expression was incredulous.

“Happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

Hermione gestured to her body. “Did you want to see this outfit in the light? I can put—,”

He stilled her with a gentle hand on her wrist. “No, leave it. I’ll see it properly tomorrow.” He waved his wand at the window and the shutters slammed closed, leaving them in the darkness.

He felt Hermione’s hands grab onto his shirt and yank him down.

“Finally caught on, did you?” she asked, and he could hear the laughter in her voice.

Draco climbed over his new wife, carefully framing her body with his own as she silently Evanescoed his clothing away. “Something to do with two teenagers meeting at university under very similar circumstances?”

“Mhmmm.”

He tugged at Hermione’s carefully smoothed coiffure, letting her unruly curls fall around her. “At least,” he mused, “I’m not drunk like I was then.”

Before he captured her lips with his, she brushed her hand across his cheek, smiling.

“And at least you have the right room, this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. "(You Drive Me) Crazy" by Britney Spears  
> 2\. "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac  
> 3\. "The Wire" by HAIM  
> 4\. "The Lion's Roar" by First Aid Kit  
> 5\. "Heartbreak Warfare" by John Mayer  
> 6\. "I'll Be There For You" by The Rembrandts  
> 7\. "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley  
> 8\. "All of Me" by John Legend  
> 9\. "One Fine Day" by The Chiffons

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Please feel free to drop me a note on tumblr, I’m always on there. Thank you for reading ❤️


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